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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24093049">Bittersweet Tragedy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicwords/pseuds/cosmicwords'>cosmicwords</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Heathers: The Musical - Murphy &amp; O'Keefe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:48:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>60,405</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24093049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicwords/pseuds/cosmicwords</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>~after the death of Heather, Ram, Kurt, and JD. </p><p>The deaths are bittersweet, as the students keep asking themself:</p><p>Do evil people deserve to be mourned?</p><p>Heather Duke craves the power that Chandler had over her, she wants to use it against others. Veronica Sawyer just wants to forget, but reoccurring dreams of her ex prevent that. Heather Mcnamara wants to know if anyone is hurting as much as she is. Everyone's emotions are a confusing whirlpool as they struggle to navigate this new world. </p><p>But Veronica is hiding a secret that could cost people their lives. And it's about to explode in her face.</p><p>Is everyone too damaged for things to go back to normal?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer, Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>PART 1</p><p>The war at Westerburg had ended, yet it continues after four are dead.</p><p>Without a leader, everything is chaos. The transition consists of murky rivers made of confusion, struggle, and angst. Once the leader is gone, everyone wants to take her place. Heather Chandler, the girl in red that had a reputation and a role to play, is one of the four. She left a mess behind her.</p><p>The string of incidents left the students wondering what to do, their feelings hurricanes- ones that have been brewing ever since September and bound to spiral out of control.</p><p>Why did Heather Chandler take her life? Only Veronica Sawyer knows the truth: she didn't. Dark memories remain embedded in her mind at all times of the day, thoughts poisoned by memories of sins she had merely read about before 1989.</p><p>Should an evil person be mourned? Was Heather Chandler evil? Is Heather Duke going to succeed to take her place?</p><p>The questions are mental murmurs from the students as they walk down the hallway to lunch, forming groups of various sizes against the walls and lockers. Fliers listing counseling hours remind them to talk about their grief, but few can identify if they truly are grieving.</p><p>For Veronica, remembering is grieving. The guilt she goes to bed with and wakes up to face again, that she was stupid enough to fall for someone that caused so much destruction.</p><p>Was it love, or purely his obsession with her and the feelings that seeing her had triggered? Was it the lust both of them were drenched in, or the bond they had? If she was dumb enough to get involved with someone like that, is there a part of that same darkness in her?</p><p>Seated alone at a table, the brunette keeps her head down and eats. Now that Chandler is gone, the group has lost their main protection. Veronica is once again fresh meat.</p><p>A girl in red sitting across the cafeteria stands up, motioning for the blonde sitting next to her to follow as they approach Veronica.</p><p>"Why haven't you been sitting with us?" The girl in red hisses, one hand on the edge of the table. Veronica looks up.</p><p>"What do you want, Duke?"</p><p>"Answer me."</p><p>Veronica's eyes dart from Heather Duke to the girl in yellow next to her, who's nervously fiddling with her skirt. "Maybe I didn't want to. It's over, Heather."</p><p>Displeased with her answer, Duke scoffs. "So you're just going to leave us since Chandler's gone? Once a Heather, always a Heather, remember?"</p><p>"Good thing I'm a Veronica."</p><p>She rolls her eyes. "Come sit with us."</p><p>"No."</p><p>Duke throws her head back laughing, but her fists are clenched by her sides. "Since when do you talk to us like that? You're one of us, Veronica. You were involved in everything just as much as us, and you don't get to go off and act like you're innocent."</p><p>Veronica takes a deep breath, now standing and eye to eye with Heather Duke. The blonde next to her remains silent, staring at the ground and not wanting to get involved.</p><p>"Stop trying to act like Chandler," she says quietly. Heather blinks. "She's gone, and why the hell are you trying to rebuild something that caused so much damage? I know you never got your chance to be the leader-" her voice has risen enough that surrounding students have begun to look over.</p><p>"Do you know what she did to me? How long I spent listening to her yell at me, curse at me, make fun of me?"</p><p>"And what makes you any better than Chandler? What makes you deserve red?." Veronica's words cause Heather to swallow and shift her weight. "It's your own fault for letting her control you, but you don't get to try and control everyone else."</p><p>Duke sucks in a breath, both hands gripping the edge of the table as she leans forward. "You are such a hypocrite, Veronica. A goddamn, hypocrite."</p><p>The silent girl next to her puts a hand on her arm, looking up at her and then at Veronica.</p><p>"We want to make sure you're okay... you've kind of been isolating yourself ever since-"</p><p>"Shut up, Heather!" Duke smiles, the words leaving her a feeling of power. The other Heather falls silent. "If you're done bitching, Veronica, come sit with us."</p><p>Veronica shakes her head, looking at the smaller Heather. "If you want to be a follower, that's your choice. I'm done." She sits back down, looking at her lunch like nothing happened.</p><p>Duke shoves Mac out of the way, getting closer to Veronica. "Listen, you don't get to tell her what to do just because you're a hot mess."</p><p>Veronica snorts, laughing. "I'm sorry, but since when do you give a damn about Mac? Last time I checked, you were the one telling her to kill herself."</p><p>"I've always cared about Mac," Duke shouts back. "And you don't get to say that the past is behind us and then use it against me!"</p><p>"Seriously?!" Veronica jumps to her feet again, looking at Heather Mcnamara. "Why are you still following her around? No one is holding you to it, you can be your own person." She gives her a sad, desperate smile.</p><p>Duke turns to the other Heather, fuming. "Don't listen to her. She's probably just as crazy as her ex." She raises an eyebrow at Veronica, her lips falling into a smirk as Veronica's eyes go wide. McNamara's mouth falls open.</p><p>"Mac..." Before Veronica can say anything else, Duke gives a glare that causes Heather's face to change. She stares at Veronica for a long moment, putting a hand on her hip. She knows that Duke won't be forgiving if she doesn't do anything to defend her, but mentally apologizes.</p><p>"We're not friends. As you said, it's over, Ronnie. You're either with us or against us." She tilts her head, still giving the taller girl a cold stare.</p><p>Mcnamara regrets the words the second they leave her mouth. Veronica saved her life and was there for her when no one else was, but the wrath of Duke is too big of a consequence.</p><p>Heather Duke crosses her arms tightly, her confident stance an attempt to match Chandler's. Heather Chandler always got what she wanted, and she always got people to listen to her. Duke craves to be listened to, to be respected as the leader had been.</p><p>Veronica's face falls, her eyebrows furrowed in hurt and confusion. All three girls are silent. Macnamara puts her hand on Duke's arm and turns her away. "Come on, she's not worth it." She looks over her shoulder at Veronica, who shakes her head.</p><p>"You and Chandler do have something in common. You're both mythic bitches."</p><p>Duke spins on her heel, ripping her arm away from Mcnamara and grabbing a soda off of Veronica's lunch tray. Before the other Heather or Veronica can stop her, she thrusts it in front of Veronica, liquid flying out and splashing her shirt and face. The cafeteria is nearly silent. She drags Mcnamara away as Veronica begins wiping her shirt with a napkin, ultimately throwing it down and running into the bathroom.</p><p>"Holy hell, what happened to you?" A voice she hasn't heard since her dream last night echos in the small bathroom. She turns around to see a pale blonde, her lips slightly blue. Veronica exhales, slumping against the wall, but then grabs a handful of paper towels and begins trying to clean it.</p><p>"Wannabe-you happened to me."</p><p>"You can not let her take my place. I won't allow it." She flips her hair over her shoulder. Veronica can see part of her blue tongue as she speaks.</p><p>"You're dead, you don't have a choice."</p><p>"No, but you do."</p><p>Veronica throws the paper towels in the trash, running her fingers through her hair in a sad attempt to rid of the tangles. The ghost of Chandler stands behind her in the mirror.</p><p>"What do I do, Heather? I don't get it, what did I ever to her? After everything Duke has said to her, why her over me?" She turns to face Heather, who laughs.</p><p>"They thought that me being dead would solve everything, but they're the ones causing problems. She's pathetic, no one except someone as weak as Macnamara is going to follow her. I knew she'd do this, jump at the position the second I left." Heather sighs, moving closer to Veronica. "Jesus, do you know how much it pisses me off to see her in red?"</p><p>"Yeah, yeah. I don't get it," Veronica replies with a small laugh. "I thought the war was over... why can't we all get along?" Both girls go silent as she slides down against the wall. The bell rings, but she doesn't acknowledge it.</p><p>"Don't count on them for peace, Veronica."</p><p>"They think I'm a psychopath... people have seen me talking to you before, but they can't see you of course. And honestly, what if I am?" She hugs her knees to her chest, more vulnerable than she would like to be. Heather Chandler is nicer as a ghost than she was as a person, attempting to make up for the sins from her life and partly hanging with Veronica out of boredom.</p><p>Heather laughs. "Why would you be, because your boyfriend was? It's not like he's a damn part of you. Everyone's a mess. You can't take it personally."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"Do you?" She raises an eyebrow. "Because you're telling all this to a ghost, and you've moped around for days."</p><p>"I know that too."</p><p>"Then do something about it. You can't let them walk all over you, and you can't let them run this place. Trying to be friends with Mcnamara is only going to cause an explosion from Duke." She exhales, studying her nails. "This place really is a mess without me."</p><p>Veronica stands up, brushing her skirt off and checking herself in the mirror one last time. "Yeah, thanks... you know, they really should add "being a bitch" to stages of grief. It would explain a lot about everybody here."</p><p>"You don't have to be grieving to be a bitch."</p><p>Veronica cracks a smile. "You are living-or should I say dead- proof of that statement."</p><p>"Oh please, you love me," Heather snaps back. Veronica rolls her eyes.</p><p>"Sure I do. Bye, Heather."</p><p>She leaves the room, immediately bowing her head the second she steps into the hall. When she was talking to Heather, things had seemed... normal. Normal except for Heather being nice and the painful reality she must enter again. Normal except for the word "Psycho" written across her locker. It reminds her of JD, of the past weeks and how empty she's felt since. She isn't looking for love, she isn't even looking for friendship.</p><p>Before she can fall deeper into thought, Martha runs up to her, a big girl with a huge heart.</p><p>"Hey! You okay?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>She shifts the books she's clutching and looks at Veronica in concern. "I saw what happened in the cafeteria. Want to watch a movie tonight?"</p><p>"Yeah, okay."</p><p>Martha's face lights up at her answer, and she waves before running off to class. Both girls are late. Veronica sighs. A movie might be nice, something normal in the midst of the pain. Heather M. was the only person aside from Martha that she considered a friend, and she'd left for the girl who told her to kill herself. Veronica thought that everyone was done acting evil, but no one else seems to want to change.</p><p>As long as the Heathers are alive, the war isn't over.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The school may be free of the demon queen, but Heather Mcnamara remains in the invisible shackles of being controlled. Being Duke's servant has its advantages and its consequences. Some leave her alone; the image of the Heathers still in their minds when they see her. Others laugh at Duke's attempt to keep the sinking clique afloat.</p><p>It's impossible to tell who's a true friend, especially after how they treated (worshipped) Chandler after her death. With it being unclear who's stable anymore in the eyes of their peers, therefore few trust each other. </p><p>The girl dubbed the nicest Heather still feels tied to Duke, subconsciously struggling to hold onto what reminds her of Chandler. The girls met in middle school, and before Duke came along, it was always Heather and Heather, Chandler, and Mac. The hidden jealousy that only grew as Duke clawed (In Mac's opinion, forced) her way in.</p><p>The "demon queen" had always been the spoiled one, the one who got what she wanted. But she was also the empty one.</p><p>"Hey, Heather. I have to get to school in a few minutes..." Heather McNamara sighs and falls to her knees, fiddling with her hands in her lap as she looks at the gravestone in front of her. "I... everyone's a mess. I can't wait to be out of this place, you know?" She lets out a soft chuckle and shifts her position, no longer on her knees.</p><p>"I hate Duke. I hate her," she goes on, subconsciously making an angry gesture with her right hand, her left being used to prop herself up. "But I don't know what else to do- should I just wait it out until college?" She laughs again, and this time her small smile fades as she does. "If I even get into a college. I want to leave this place, get away from everything. But then what? I don't have a plan, or a place to go- my mom is getting worse... I don't want to leave her. Or Veronica. But..."</p><p>"You're a mess," Chandler comments, floating a few inches to the side of her gravestone. She purses her lips, chest feeling tight despite her not having a solid body.</p><p>Heather M, failing to see her, plucks a blade of grass from next to her and twirls it between her fingers, unknowing that she received an answer. "That's not even all of it."</p><p>Chandler purses her lips again. "Of course it isn't."</p><p>"Ronnie hates me! And it's because of Duke. I'm worried about her, but she won't let me help her because Duke keeps telling me to stay away from her because Veronica doesn't want anything to do with us." She sighs, and this time Chandler fails to find a remark. Mac glances at her watch. Expensive would be an understatement; gold and silver sparkle around a clock with a white background. </p><p>She stands and gives the gravestone a small wave.</p><p>"I have to get to school. Next time I'll bring flowers, or something... bye, Heather!" She calls as she runs off to catch the bus, leaving the ghost with a small smile and a heart swollen with loneliness.</p><p>***</p><p>"C'mon, Ronnie, I'll show you."</p><p>"No. Please- get away from me!" Veronica struggles but fails to escape the grip of her boyfriend, who forces a gun into her hand and lifts her arm up.</p><p>"Ronnie, please, don't do this-" Heather M's begging comes to a halt as a bullet goes through her chest. She looks down before letting out a shrill scream. As she falls to her knees, gasping for air, Jason lowers the gun.</p><p>"Oh god- Mac-"</p><p>He tightens his grip, leading her away. They pass several teenagers. Most are laughing, caught up in conversation; some kiss passionately where they think people can't see. Where am I? Veronica thinks as he shoves her into a room where a girl in green stands before her. This is a party, but who's?</p><p>"Hey, V."</p><p>JD raises Veronica's arm again, both of their fingers on the trigger. Before she can protest, he pulls it. Shock rolls over Heather. She screams curses before a horrific gurgling sound rises from her throat and she too falls to her knees, howling in pain.</p><p>"Help me- what- wrong with you?" She sobs. "Help me..."</p><p>Veronica watches the life leave her, body relaxing and eyelids lowering a bit. JD's chest rises and falls against her back, a reminder of how real this is. </p><p>"See?" He says, his warm breath close to her neck. There's a sinister edge to his voice. Veronica tries to pull away again. "You have it in you, 'Ronica. You always have."</p><p>At last, succeeding to shove him away, she makes her way down the hall in fast, short strides. His footsteps follow. Colors, people, and objects blur together in a blend of noise and silence and reality mixed with the dream-like haze that casts a  blurriness over everything to the sides of her. It's only when she feels his hand grab her arm that she turns around.</p><p>"You're glad, Ronnie. You're glad they're dead." He chuckles, tightening his grip and pulling her closer. "And it's okay. You enjoyed it."</p><p>He traces her jawline with his thumb; she looks up at him. Then she begins to smile. Realizing she did, bliss and sense fight each other. The adrenaline, the release of buried emotions and finally feeling free when she watched them drop. It was payback, revenge, but mostly pleasure. A pleasure that for once she was doing the hurting, for once someone needed her more than ever and that she'd sent a message by walking away as the last bits of life and agony left them.</p><p>This isn't me. Her smile disappears in the same amount of time it formed:  seconds. The weight on her chest grows as she looks around. Laughter and muffled voices coat every second of silence.</p><p>Stop, stop, stop!</p><p>She thinks that she screams, but soon realizes the scream only existed in her mind. Looking around, her eyes grasp for the familiar face, but JD has vanished. Everyone around her remains unrealistically oblivious. Veronica feels the opposite; it seems everything is too real. The hard surface of something against her skin drags her eyes to the gun now in her hand. </p><p>"Ronica! Miss us?"</p><p> Duke and Mcnamara stand behind her. Both have gunshot wounds dripping blood, a dark red against their pale skin. The color has left their lips too, leaving them a shade of light pink. But it isn't a soft, baby pink- more like a raw chicken on a cutting board, peeling and bleeding and skinned.</p><p>Duke gives her a chilling grin. "We're going to have so much fun..."</p><p>"You thought that death could stop us?" Mcnamara asks. "You were wrong." She throws an arm around Duke's shoulders. "You were very, very wrong."</p><p>Veronica looks at the gun again and lets it fall to the floor; it hits the tile with a thud.</p><p>She'll have to live with the sin now. She'll have to tolerate the ghosts of the victims and the memories. JD didn't exist, she realizes. It was me. I pulled the trigger.</p><p>"Come on, Veronica."</p><p>"Scared?" Heather M. laughs. "Someone looks like they've seen a ghost!" She cracks up at her own joke as if it's the funniest thing in the world. Veronica's stomach churns as the laugh results in glimpses of McNamara's rotting teeth and greying gums. </p><p>She bolts down the hallway, hands over her ears, pulling at the back door handle. Locked. </p><p>"You can't get out, Veronica."</p><p>She turns around and squeezes her eyes shut, sliding down against the wall.</p><p>"Look at me! Look at what you've done!</p><p>No.</p><p>"Veronica."</p><p>Leave me alone.</p><p>"Ver-"</p><p>***</p><p>"...onica. Veronica, you're going to be late."</p><p>The teen screams, jerking up and awake to see her mother standing in her doorway.</p><p>"Uh... Yeah."</p><p>Mrs. Sawyer squints at her. "Jumpy much?"</p><p>Veronica gives a shaky laugh. Her mother leaves, and she collapses down again. Sweat coats her collarbone and forehead. Kicking the blanket off, she throws her legs over the side of the bed. </p><p>Tears roll down her cheeks. The things she felt in the dream, she can feel now, but it was only a dream, right? As she gets ready for school, the effects of it don't wear off.</p><p>"Veronica! Hurry up!"</p><p>"Coming!" She doesn't bother with a jacket, and her messy hair is the farthest thing from her mind. By the time she stumbles into the hall, the bell rang five minutes ago. Yet a cheerleader leans against her locker, not yet caught by teachers with their lectures fresh in mind and detention slips already in hand. </p><p>"Hey." Heather McNamara gives her a nervous smile. "Can we talk?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Veronica walks straight past her, Heather jumps to her feet and jogs to catch up.</p><p>"Uh... please?"</p><p>Veronica glares before sighing. "What do you want? I'm not in the mood for more of Duke's crap." </p><p>"This isn't about Duke," Heather says quietly. "I wanted to say sorry." When this earns her a glance, she decides to test it. "Because I am. So... how are you?"</p><p>She receives a grin and something between a snort and a laugh. "Just peachy, Heather."</p><p>Heather keeps her eyes on the girl, observing the dark circles under her eyes and her eyelids partway shut.</p><p>"Have you been crying?"</p><p>They subconsciously walk towards the parking lot. The wind seeps through their clothes, leaving chills and shivering that neither acknowledges. Veronica pulls out a cigarette once they are standing outside the school,  leaving the question unanswered and hanging between them.</p><p>"Uhm... maybe we could sit together at lunch? Betty Finn too, if she wants."</p><p>"Duke will hate you."</p><p>"She already hates me."</p><p>"Touché." Veronica takes another drag of her cigarette before throwing it on the floor and stomping it out. Her eyes linger on the ground even when she takes her foot away, ridden with a vacancy Heather notices. A vacancy that used to be filled by joy- joy that died with Jason Dean. </p><p>"Ronnie?"</p><p>"Yeah?" She looks up at her.</p><p>"What's going on?" I'm not like Duke, she thinks. Please be my friend. Let me in.</p><p>Veronica looks her dead in the eye. "You never showed much concern for that before."</p><p>McNamara looks down, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "I'm sorry. I'm a horrible person, but I regret everything I did. And I want to be friends." She puts a hand on Veronica's arm. "I understand what you're-"</p><p>Veronica laughs before sighing. "You don't understand." She hit a nerve, a wound Veronica didn't know is still open. </p><p>Now it's Heather's turn to laugh. "What? You're not the only one who lost your boyfriend, remember?" A cold glint enters her eyes. "And a friend," she adds, referring to Chandler. "So yes, I do understand."</p><p>Both girls' thoughts are hitting them at full speed. Veronica bites her lip, shaking her head. She's right, Heather doesn't understand the fear or the memories, but there are things only Veronica knows that she carries in her mind. The cheerleader, the girl dubbed "innocent" by many, keeps twisting her emotions and making her doubt just how good she is at hiding those things in safekeeping.</p><p>"No." Veronica takes a step back, causing Heather to gulp as she struggles to avoid making eye contact. "You don't. You don't have to deal with the nightmares, the insults, people comparing you to-" she lets out an exasperated breath. "You don't have to live with it! Knowing that you have something dangerous inside of you and you can't trust anybody in case..." She finally meets Heather's eye.</p><p>Heather scoffs. "You think I don't get insulted every day? I never want to drag myself out of bed to face Duke or the rumors knowing that I'm just going to fail another test because my mom was drunk last night and I can't concentrate on my homework when she's screaming-"</p><p>"I know that things are hard for you, it's not easy for any of us!" Veronica clenches her fists by her sides,  eyes wide with not only irritation and exhaustion but a layer of vulnerability she struggles to hide. "But there are things... that you don't..." she grasps for the right words. "You don't have to live with the fear! The fear that-"</p><p>"The fear of what, Ronnie?" Heather asks, softening her tone after seeing Veronica freeze and cut herself off so abruptly.</p><p>Veronica fumbles for another cigarette, placing an unlit one between her teeth. "Nothing." They stand in silence as she lights it. "Go to class, Mac."</p><p>"Fine. But... can we still do lunch?"</p><p>"Yeah, whatever."</p><p>Seeing Veronica's disinterest in continuing, Heather sighs and walks to her first class, Her thoughts still racing and heart carrying a dull ache. </p><p>~~~~~~</p><p>When lunch comes around after classes that to drag on for so long it's painful, Heather Duke sits alone. The food on her lunch tray looks happier and brighter than her expression. The second in line for the queen of the Westerberg food chain makes herself as small as possible, but not as small as she feels. She stares at her food, but every few minutes looks up and glances across the room to where Heather Mcnamara and Veronica sit, Betty Finn and Martha Dunstock across from them. She watches as Betty laughs and then turns to a grinning Martha, and Heather M. nudges Veronica.</p><p>Heather looks down at her lunch again, but her appetite has disappeared. The chatter and laughter of surrounding peers make her feel like crying. Mcnamara is siding with Veronica, struggling to break free. But Duke wants the same things Mac does- a friend. A real one. When in a losing battle to loneliness, Mcnamara's betrayal is only a reminder of how little she has now.</p><p>She forces her eyes to stay on the table and the food in front of her. She picks up her apple, but only takes one bite before setting it back down. Despite her feelings, she's free. Chandler isn't around to comment on her weight, making subtle remarks about how she eats too much or how the other Heathers' jeans wouldn't fit her when they exchange clothes. Heather M. never seemed to have issues with her weight, being on the cheerleading team and petite by nature.</p><p>Chandler held a flame of self-hatred but no one noticed except her team. She rolled her eyes when they complimented her hair and when guys pointed out her figure. "I don't get it," Duke said once, as they stood in Heather Chandler's room alone. Mcnamara attended a family gathering at the time, leaving only them to shop and tear up lawns. "I would love it if being pretty was my worst problem."</p><p>Heather Chandler shakes her head, looking up from a magazine. "It's not that I don't like it... but when you're pretty, it's all people see. People know me for who I'm dating a lot of the time. Sometimes I wonder if there even is more to me when they make me sound like a cardboard figure with a pound of makeup and tits."</p><p>Duke knew better than to press the topic, and the conversation was stored in the file box of things they would never talk about again.</p><p>Now, months later, she regrets not pressing it. She misses someone yelling at her, ordering her around, and showing her off. She misses having someone, even if the people she'd had secretly hated her. They don't hate her any more than she hates herself.</p><p>Heather rests her head on the table, pushing her lunch tray away and deciding to wait out the period.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Veronica doesn't yet have her own car, meaning she has to use her mom's. The deal is that she will go straight home after the "suicides" have made her parents overprotective and wary. But after saying a quick goodbye to Heather McNamara and Martha, she gets in the car with a different location in mind.</p><p>The afternoon sun beats down, brighter than ever when she pulls up to a small house not far from the school. She finds herself fiddling with her hands, a lump blossoming in her throat as she waits for the door to open.</p><p>After what feels like an eternity of no answer, she spins on her heel to recede back to the car, but is stopped by a gruff "Can I help you?"</p><p>Turning back around, she says, "Uh... I'm Veronica. Sawyer. I uh, have a few things here that I never got back from Jason-"</p><p>Mr. Dean opens the door a bit wider, giving Veronica a glance at the half-empty beer bottle in his left hand. He gestures to the hallway. "Go ahead."</p><p>Veronica gives a small nod and makes her way to his room. The door is closed but unlocked. She takes a shaky breath before entering, instantly being hit with the smell of cigarette smoke and the sound of an animal scampering around in a cage. She looks over to see a hamster running in circles and can't help but laugh as she walks over to a dresser and opens the first drawer. Clothes. The next two drawers are clothes as well, but it changes completely once she gets to the fourth. Several shoeboxes sit side by side.</p><p>Unknowing of what exactly she's searching for, she removes the lid of the first one. There's a stack of photos, the first of the many being one of them. The next three contain a woman no other than JD's mother, their facial features so similar it causes Veronica to shudder and close the shoebox.</p><p>The second one has papers with notes and scribbles. Veronica looks closer.</p><p>We, the students of Westerburg High, will die. Our place on the food chain no longer-</p><p>The line is crossed out and rewritten, the process of the Westerburg note being revised and thought out dancing in front of Veronica's eyes. The next page is filled with bulleted notes about bombs, dates, and facts. She shakes her head before placing the lid back on. Two boxes left.</p><p>Her breathing speeds up, suddenly ragged enough to make the hamster run again as it somehow senses the distress. She takes out a small box with a label on the front, a white slip of paper taped on with typed words.</p><p>"Ich Luge bullets were used by German Nazis to fake their suicides... pierces skin... without killing..."</p><p>Veronica remembers the lie enough she doesn't have to read more. She squeezes her eyes shut, his voice in her head and memories creeping up faster than one of the bullets that killed Kurt and Ram. She drops the bullets into her pocket and blinks back tears. One box left, and she has a feeling what's inside of it.</p><p>Sure enough, her hand brushes the hard barrel of a gun.</p><p>She holds it for a second. Her finger slides over the trigger and then the grip. When her hands begin to shake, she places it back in the box and hops to jumps to her feet. The hamster starts to squirm around, the cage rattling from its movements. </p><p>Anger bubbles in her chest. They lied, and the consequences are still unclear. Until the cloud fades, she has to live with what he left her: fear, unsureness, and trauma she doesn't know how to handle.</p><p>One day she will watch it all crumble, from her future to their toxic romance to every hope that builds up her dreams. The happiness, the fleeting love had been a mirage.</p><p>"You want out?" Veronica asks, propping her chin up with her hand and leaning against the table where the cage is. "Me too," she sighs. Out of the pain, out of the trauma she hasn't even recognized yet, and the fear ever since the sudden calamity.</p><p>"That damn thing... you want it?"</p><p>The startled girl shrieks and jumps back, the table wobbling from the release of her weight. Bud Dean stands in the doorway, chuckling softly. He no longer holds beer, but his eyes and visible unsteadiness suggest he consumed more than just that bottle recently.</p><p>"Sorry, didn' mean to scare you." He glances at the hamster again. "Noisy bastard."</p><p>Veronica cracks a smile. "It's cute."  Her eyes aren't on the hamster but on the man. His hair seems whiter-no, greyer- than the last time she was here- but she doesn't remember the last time she was here. She tries not to. The wrinkles caused by age and grief combined have seemed to multiply as well, but maybe she didn't notice it before. Sometimes Veronica wakes up expecting to look as she feels: older.</p><p>The Westerburg incident, him, the murders... it all weighs down and attempts to crush you until you have no choice but to cope with it, to stand up straight. It forced her to grow up.</p><p>What would it have been like? She thinks, thinking back to the photo of them. If it weren't for you... if I weren't so damn stupid.</p><p>Bud snorts."Yeah, cute when you aren't tryna' sleep. Cute when you don't gotta buy the damn food and clean the damn cage because when all you want to do is shoot the damn thing." He looks back at Veronica, though it feels as if he's looking through her. "You find what you're lookin' for?"</p><p>"Some of it."</p><p>He nods, glancing at the unmade bed and overflowing trash can. "Place is a mess. Guess that's partly on me, though. Haven't gone through..." He trails off from a combination of exhaustion and alcohol. "Take whatever you want. Gonna sell the place soon." He walks- stumbles- away, leaving Veronica relieved to get out of the conversation and left alone.</p><p>Before the memories and buried heartbreak can catch up, she opens the drawer and refocuses. The bullets weigh her pockets down, and she transfers them to her book bag along with a photo, knowing she'll regret taking it later. </p><p>Her next act is impulsive, but also an act of her subconscious. It knows before she does.</p><p>She shoves the gun in her bag with the bullets, picks up the hamster, and climbs out the window.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jason Dean was beyond help, as Veronica knew. But that reassurance fails to stop her from blaming herself, straying away from people in fear they'll want the same thing: to use her. It's days like these when all she sees is wine-red blood and a black gun that both carry a dose of anxiety.</p><p>She drifts in and out of sleep, wishing the slivers of it would last. Guilt creeps into her dreams but not as strong as it poisons her when she's awake. The weight of it makes her unsteady in a way no one understands.</p><p>The cycle continues, relatively worse this morning. She runs through the deaths in her mind one at a time, weeping by the time she reaches the bomb and flash of an explosion. Harder when she thinks of the lies. It feels like mere minutes before she stood in front of it all, watching her boyfriend disappear instead of weeks.</p><p>Today's excuse is an illness, but it's barely hardly a lie when Veronica can't keep her eyes open or leave the promise of safety her blankets give her. When Heather McNamara exits the high school at three pm, she decides to look into her friends- well, if they're even friends- absence. Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer are long gone to work when Heather arrives, using a spare key under the mat she remembers Veronica saying she uses sometimes to get in.</p><p>"Hello? Ronnie? It's me- Heather." She jogs upstairs and knocks on the door. Soft sobs filter through, some containing inaudible words or coughing. Heather goes to knock again, but the door swings open before her hand can connect with the wood.</p><p>"Hey." Heather gets a strong whiff of cheap perfume and cigarette smoke. Veronica sits on the edge of her bed, wiping her eyes and running her fingers through her tangled hair in a sad attempt to tame her bedhead. "I'm sick, you should go home."</p><p>"I brought your homework- figured you'd still want it."</p><p>Veronica nods, and Heather takes her backpack off and digs papers and a textbook out of it, throwing them on the bed before sitting down next to her.</p><p>"Thanks, Mac." Veronica sniffles and props herself up with her hand. She receives a nod in response but the other girl doesn't leave. "You uh... thanks stopping by. Want me to walk you out?"</p><p>The small smile Heather wore falters at her words. "I think I'll stay for a bit. Make sure you're okay."</p><p>Veronica groans. "I'm fine."</p><p>"You don't look fine. And I can hear you crying from outside- when did you get a hamster?" She eyes the noisy cage on the table under the window.</p><p>"Its name is Slushy, and I told my mom you were giving him away so if she asks, go along with it."</p><p>Heather furrows a brow. "Wait, where did you- oh." She swallows the forming lump in her throat, knowing she'll be walking on eggshells for the rest of the conversation. "You went to... is that what this is about? Him?"</p><p>When she's met with silence, she puts a hand on top of Veronica's, causing her to look up with a mix of confusion and sorrow plastered on her face. Heather looks from her red-rimmed eyes to her red nose and chapped lips. They sit like that until Veronica falls onto her back and brings Heather down next to her. They turn their heads to talk to each other as Veronica pulls a blanket over them.</p><p>"Did you love Ram? Or was it all..." Veronica gives up on finding a word and trails off, her eyes still in line with Heather's.</p><p>"I thought I did. For a little bit, at least. I was so stupid, wasting my time." Heather laughs, and for some reason it makes Veronica start crying again.</p><p>I'm sorry, she thinks. He wasn't supposed to die-</p><p>"Ronnie?"</p><p>She feels Heather's arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer as she buries her face in her shirt. "I'm sorry," she hiccups.</p><p>Heather removes an arm from under the blanket and runs her fingers through Veronica's hair. "No, no. It's not your fault."</p><p>Veronica laughs inside her head. If only you knew...</p><p>"But maybe if I had-"</p><p>"Stop. You couldn't have stopped it, alright?" Heather says, her voice shakier than it was seconds ago. She brushes a strand of hair out of the sobbing girl's face and holds her tighter. She's too focused on calming her to let her cheeks heat up from the realization of how close they are, their skin and thighs touching under the blanket. "You can't blame yourself for someone else's choice."</p><p>"I can change their mind, though," Veronica says, using the "I could have stopped them" conversation to express a drop of the guilt and shame she's drenched in without being able to spit out the truth.</p><p>"Not when it comes to suicide. If they knew they were gay- they probably made the decision a while ago." On the verge of tears, Heather takes the next few seconds of silence as an opportunity to get up. "Did you eat lunch?"</p><p>"I'm not hungry."</p><p>"I'll take that as a no." She hands Veronica a tissue and sits on the edge of the bed, waiting until she sits up to hug her. "I'll always be here for you, even if I'm evil-"</p><p>"You're not evil, Mac."</p><p>Heather nods. "Right... well, even if I don't understand everything, I know how it feels to lose someone and-"</p><p>Veronica cuts her off with another hug, this time with a motive of gratitude and loneliness. When they break off, Heather pulls her to her feet and they head downstairs. After Heather succeeds in her battle to get her to eat, Veronica turns on a movie and snuggles up next to her again.</p><p>Three hours later Heather wakes up, quietly removing the blanket and detaching the other girl from her. She smiles at a sleeping Veronica before tiptoeing upstairs to gather her things. She slips something into her bag that makes her stomach turn. She pushes past the wave of guilt.</p><p>Concern, she tells herself. Concern is the only reason I'm doing this.</p><p>She leaves a note telling Veronica to take care of herself and call if she needs anything and gets in the car. She doesn't drive off.</p><p>Instead, the opens and begins flipping through Veronica's diary.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Veronica doesn't realize that her book of secrets is missing until she's about to be late for school and digging through her bag over and over again.</p><p>"Veronica!" Her mom calls on her fifth time of dumping everything out. She's already checked her desk, bed, dresser, and in every bin and drawer.</p><p>"Coming!" She gathers her books and papers again, shoving them into her bag without bothering to organize. It's probably in my bag, she thinks, as always. Or it's stuck in between the pages of a textbook... I'll find it today.</p><p>Arriving at school without a minute to spare, she doesn't have time to ask Heather about it before classes. She slides into her first-period seat and plans on asking her if she's seen it when they have their first class together, math.</p><p>***</p><p>What Veronica hadn't planned was to never get to talk to Mac. In math, they have to work in partners, and of course don't get paired together, in science they don't sit near each other, and in the halls, Heather dodges into her next class before she can stop her.</p><p>After school, she finally catches Heather as she waits for the bus.</p><p>"Hey!"</p><p>Her smile is returned as she turns around. "Hi, Ronnie. Feel better today?"</p><p>"Uh, yeah. Sure. Heather, my diary's gone. I was wondering... since you were at my house yesterday, did you see it? Or..." she observes the guilty look suddenly overcoming her face. "Do you have it?"</p><p>Mac shifts, scratching her chin and then shrugging her bag off of her shoulder. Veronica's eyes widen in horror as she pulls out a blue notebook. "I can explain, I was worried and-" Veronica snatches the book and hugs it to her chest.</p><p>"How far did you read?!"</p><p>"Not all of it!" She folds her hands in a prayer-like motion, but her hands are tight and clenched. "I'm sorry, but I needed to know-"</p><p>" How much- show me the parts you read."</p><p>"I already know," Heather says quietly, causing her to freeze and suck in a breath. "I know that you killed Heather."</p><p>Every entry seems to come flooding back into Veronica's mind, the ones she sprawled out in messy cursive mid mental breakdown or in the middle of the night, confessions she doesn't have anyone to tell to. Due to her foolishness, Heather knows that she killed her best friend.</p><p>Not knowing what else to do, Veronica spins on her heel and runs.</p><p>"Veronica, wait!" Heather throws her bag back over her shoulder and runs after her. Leaves and branches crack under her feet as she dodges trees and tries to keep the flash of blue in sight. "Veronica!" As they go deeper into the woods, memories push against Veronica harder than the wind.</p><p>"You killed my best friend!"</p><p>"Wake up!"</p><p>"I just killed my best friend!"</p><p>Losing control of her breathing, she comes to a halt and slides down against a tree, her hands over her ears.</p><p>Gunshots. The woods. Heather drinking the "hangover cure." Holding a gun. An arm around her waist and her boyfriend whispering in her ear. Blood.</p><p>I'll never be free. The guilt is the price of my greed-</p><p>"Our love is god."</p><p>The gun in her room, in the bottom drawer of her desk buried under a shirt and several books.</p><p>"Veronica." She feels hands on her shoulders and opens her eyes to see the Heather that is always in yellow kneeling in front of her. She's a cheerleader... saved her once...</p><p>"Mac..." she allows her to help her up, her hands still on her arms, holding her steady without a tight grip. The first thing she does is hug her.</p><p>"I'm not going to tell anyone... I just..." her eyes dart from Veronica's to the ground. "What happened with Kurt and Ram? Did they really kill themselves?"</p><p>There's already blood in the water, but Veronica decides some secrets are better off kept. "Yeah, I don't... I don't know why Mac. I'm sorry." She exhales deeply, still struggling to fully catch her breath.</p><p>Heather nods. "It's okay. Why'd you do it... kill Heather with him?"</p><p>"He tricked me. It wasn't supposed to..." Veronica gets a glance of a blonde figure standing several feet in front of her, behind Heather, causing her to fall silent and stare. But Chandler disappears once Veronica sees her.</p><p>Heather drapes an arm over her shoulders. "Come on, let's get you home. I'll drive if you want."</p><p>Veronica doesn't protest. She gets into the passenger seat of her car and rests her head against the window, focusing on the vibration against her as the car starts. As they drive, Heather glances at her with an unreadable expression. Her lips remain pressed together. On the fifth or sixth glance, Veronica says, "Spit it out, Heather."</p><p>"If he wasn't there, would you have done it?" Her words come out more rushed and forceful than intended.</p><p>"Yeah, just like I would try to blow up the whole school and kill everybody."</p><p>Heather's head whips around, and Veronica throws her hands up.</p><p>"Christ, I'm kidding! No, I wouldn't have done it!"</p><p>They both exhale and fall back into silence. Veronica closes her eyes and curls up, resting until the car slows.</p><p>"Ronnie..."</p><p>Her eyes open, and she looks over to see that they're driving past a house that isn't hers. Uniformed officers pace around, shaking their heads and watching them close the doors to an ambulance. There's a woman in a blue robe out front too. She plucks her cigarette from between her teeth and mumbles something to herself.</p><p>Veronica unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out despite Heather's calls, and she ends up following her to the yard. They approach the woman, who raises an eyebrow in acknowledgment.</p><p>"Hi, I'm Veronica and this is Heather. I knew Mr. Dean, what... what happened?"</p><p>She sighs. "Lindsey Hopper. I live next door, he stopped visiting and his work called. I went over and..." she takes a drag of her cigarette. Heather thinks there's something creepy about her as she looks at the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes, which are such a dark brown they're almost black. "He's dead. They say they're tryin' but I know a dead man when I see em'." She chuckles to herself. Veronica cracks a nervous smile. "Kiddin', but he didn't have no pulse. I called 911 and..." she gestures to the ambulance. Her hands are just as wrinkly as her face.</p><p>"How did he pass?" Veronica asks.</p><p>"Drank himself to death. Alcohol poisoning. To think," she says. "That somethin' you do for fun, for the pleasure of it, could be the death of you. Lord have mercy." She shakes her head, strands of her grayish hair that escaped her side bun falling in front of her face. She doesn't bother to move them, letting a vacant glaze form in her eyes.</p><p>"Oh... well, thank you." Veronica looks over at Heather, who plasters a fake grateful smile on her face and links arms with her. They turn away and begin walking back to the car. Goosebumps coat Heather's arms by the time she starts driving again.</p><p>"Woah. I knew he was alcoholic but... not this bad, you know? I wonder if it had to do with-"</p><p>"You can say it, Heather. I'm not going to kill you." Heather senses a hint of passive-aggressiveness in her voice.</p><p>"...I wonder if it had to do with JD. Losing a kid would be enough to push anyone off the edge, right? I know they didn't-"</p><p>"Are you saying he killed himself?"</p><p>"No, but... I mean, he could have put something lethal in the drink..." She thinks for a moment. "But... it's probably what they said. Alcohol poisoning. Let's just think that, okay?"</p><p>Veronica nods in agreement. Neither wants to think about his death, but neither can get it off their mind.</p><p>"So you're not going to the cops, right?"</p><p>"To turn you in? Right after I drop you off." She glances at Veronica, who bites her lip and then laughs before going serious again. "Wait- are you-"</p><p>"Seriously?" She pulls up to Veronica's house. "You're all I have left, Ronnie. My mouth is shut."</p><p>They hug before Veronica climbs out, waving at her before disappearing inside. The second she's out of sight, Heather lays her head on the steering wheel and cries.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Heather Duke hates herself. She doesn't say it in an attempt to make people pity her, it's a fact. She hates how big she looks compared to Heather McNamara and how she can't wear leggings without the pudge on her stomach showing. Sometimes, when she wasn't comfortable with her current weight, she'd wear stockings under her skirt even when Chandler wanted them not to. She'd get yelled at and ignored for the rest of the day, causing McNamara to follow Chandler around like a lost puppy and beam whenever she used her. When you're not pretty, you begin to think that that's why people don't like you, or that's why you'll never be at the top. It will always be drop-dead gorgeous Chandler.</p><p>She sees her ugliness as condemnation from the universe, something she's beginning to think of as unfixable. Duke has dressed in red again, her hair tied back in a red scrunchie she purchased and gold bracelets around her wrists. Today she's going to try.</p><p>"Hey, Heather!" She jogs up to Heather McNamara, who gives her a nervous smile, a bit uneasy from the other girl's random enthusiasm.</p><p>"Hey."</p><p>"So... I heard you and Ronnie are dating." She gives her a playful nudge.</p><p>McNamara crinkles her nose. "Who said that? We're just friends."</p><p>Duke rolls her eyes. "Just so you know... I'd be supportive if you were like..."</p><p>"Gay?" She turns to face her, her expression stone-cold and unreadable. "I'm not. And since when would you be supportive of that?" When Duke stays silent, swallowing the lump in her throat, her eyes widen as she jumps back in horror.</p><p>"You sick bitch!" She spits, her chin trembling and tears of anger and grief threatening to spill over. Her words take both of them by surprise. "T-this isn't- you're sick! You don't use someone's dead boyfriend against them-"</p><p>"This has nothing to do with Ram-" Duke starts.</p><p>"BS, Heather." Her nostrils flare as she takes a step forward. "I don't want your pity and I know what you're doing."</p><p>"I'm trying to be your friend. But you're clearly not stable enough to." Now Duke is as angry as Mac, her breathing quick. She too takes a step forward. "Go cry somewhere else. Go find Veronica, I'm sure she'll fall for your lies again."</p><p>"I hate you!"</p><p>People have been staring, but it's only now that the girls notice. McNamara doesn't know what else to say. Her heartbreak is ineffable, and the grief she didn't recognize before is rising. The anger, to be specific. It's as if she's been held back, and just now someone is waving a flag, signaling for her to let the feelings boil over as they rush back to her.</p><p>"Are you done? I have a class to get to. Not all of us are failing, and I don't plan on letting my life fall apart as much as you have." Duke shudders and shoves Mac out of her way, trudging to English. Why does she have to be so complicated? Pissing off Heather hadn't been part of her plan, in fact, it had been the opposite. But it may not matter at all.</p><p>She walks upstairs, passing Veronica on the way. "Your girlfriend is probably crying in a bathroom somewhere if you care," she says. Veronica furrows a brow, her lips parted.</p><p>"My... what?"</p><p>Duke is already gone.</p><p>***</p><p>"From the top." Heather McNamara starts the music and begins leading the girls through the routine. "Callie, make sure to keep your arm straight. I think you're getting it, Claire." She paces around, taking mental notes on the movements and how everyone is performing. Jaden is getting stuck on the fifth count... Callie still won't keep her damn arms straight...</p><p>She glances at a brunette sitting on the bleachers, struggling to focus on homework because of all the dancing in front of her. She's better than she gives herself credit for, Veronica thinks. Heather bites her lip as she watches her wear a small smile with a hint of a smirk. She waves, and Veronica waves back.</p><p>"Heather!"</p><p>She spins around, realizing she'd been staring at Veronica. Heat rises in her cheeks as she runs over to stop the music before a different song comes on. When she turns back around, everyone, including Veronica, is staring at the gym doorway. Heather Duke struts inside as the other Heather subconsciously shifts into a challenging stance, her arms pressed against her chest and one leg in front of the other. She observes Heather's "sporty" outfit: black leggings, and a loose tank top, revealing the straps of a white bra under the thin red material. Her hair is tied into a low ponytail with her red scrunchie. She'll need Heather Chandler's confidence to pull this off.</p><p>"Jesus Christ, what gutter did you crawl out of?"</p><p>Duke disregards the comment, looking around and trying to look past Heather. "Where's the captain?"</p><p>"Absent. I'm leading today," Heather says proudly. "Why are you here?"</p><p>"I want to try out."</p><p>***</p><p>McNamara bursts into laughter, and so do some of the girls. Veronica purses her lips, her homework abandoned in her lap.</p><p>"I mean... I don't know where we'd put you..." She looks around and then gets an idea. An evil, wicked idea. "Actually... you don't need to try out. We'll go through the routine step by step, and then you can try it. Prove you want this, and you're on the team," she smiles. But wait here. Don't start!" She jogs over to Veronica, who gets to her feet and hops down.</p><p>"Bathroom. Bring your notebook and a pen."</p><p>Veronica nods and heads for the hall.</p><p>"Uh... take a water break. I'll be back in a minute." She runs after Veronica Into the bathroom to face her confused expression.</p><p>"Heyy,  RonRon!"</p><p>"Since when do you call me-"</p><p>"Just go with it. Anyways, I need you to do me a favor." She motions for the notebook and Veronica hands it to her. "I need you to write a note, and I need it to look like Duke wrote it."</p><p>Why am I still doing forgeries?  Veronica thinks, shaking her head slightly. "Fine. What does it need to say?"</p><p>Heather flips to a blank page, which she tears out and places on top of the notebook before handing it to Veronica, who uncaps a pen with her teeth.</p><p>"Hmm... "Hey, I've been into you for a while, you can get some at cheer if you'd like. I'm on the team now, see you soon." Sign it Heather D," Heather says, grinning. Veronica finishes the note and caps the pen, looking down and squinting in suspicion.</p><p>"Who's this for? What are you-"</p><p>"Thanks, RonRon!" She runs outside, where chattering students sit around eating lunch. She has the rest of lunch and P.E to do cheer since she had Veronica forge a permission slip. Besides, it counts as physical activity. She approaches a table where several boys sit, one of them with milk dripping from his mouth and the rest laughing and making the grossest combinations possible out of their lunch. They look up when she approaches.</p><p>She slides the note in front of the one on the end, Carter. "It's from Duke." There is a chorus of "Ooo" from the surrounding boys, and one of them punches him on the shoulder as he unfolds it. "We're in the gym."</p><p>She turns and walks away with a smirk.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Alright, Girls! I'm bringing Carter in to help with a new part of the routine. I'll have Heather demonstrate and then we'll get some of the other guys."</p><p>"You're sure the Cory will be okay with it?" Someone asks, referring to the team's official captain.</p><p>Heather McNamara doesn't answer, waiting for Carter to walk in and glancing at Duke, who is pacing around. She's giddy and excited that Mac is giving her a chance, and that she may be able to fulfill her dream since childhood after years of thinking she'd never make it with the way she looks.</p><p>Veronica is seated on the bleachers again, scribbling away as Carter jogs in with two boys behind him. They all play football, but with the damage at the end of the football field from the bomb, they can't have home games until it's fixed.</p><p>Heather eyes Duke's water bottle, which she'd added her own personal touch to. She gulps and then takes a step forward.</p><p>"Alright... Heather, stand here. Carter, your hands on her waist... Jenna, on the left, Claire, on the right. Poms up." She continues giving directions until they are all in the position she wants. "This will be your end position. Come from wherever you were and get here by the end of the song. You should be still by the time the music stops."</p><p>Her attitude suddenly changes. "Heather... Hmm... I wanted you to be up higher but..."</p><p>"But?"</p><p>"But I don't want anyone's arms getting hurt," she says with a mean smile. "Carter, do you think you could lift her? I don't want you to hurt yourself."</p><p>Carter nods, confused. Duke is on the verge of tears after realizing what she means.</p><p>"Great. Well, let's go through the routine." As Heather goes to switch the music on, Carter's hand slides up Duke's waist, landing on her breast.</p><p>"Nice note, babe," he whispers, squeezing a bit before she tries to wiggle away. Unknowing it's because she doesn't want it, he lets his hand slide down her thigh. Duke is confused, to say the least. What note?</p><p>"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she says, removing his hands from her body.</p><p>"Sure you do." He places on on her hip again. This time she breaks free, stepping forward and away.</p><p>"Is there a problem? Get in your starting positions!" McNamara shouts, turning the music to the first song and then jogging in front to see everyone as they do so. She makes Duke watch them go through a routine before adding her to the front row. After a quick run-through, some criticism, and more directions, they begin.</p><p>The front row keeps bumping into each other, and half of them are mixing up when to do what move. Heather isn't having it.</p><p>"What is wrong with you guys?! You've done this for weeks!"</p><p>"I think-"</p><p>"Shut up, Jennifer!"</p><p>"Mac," Veronica says quietly from the bleachers. Heather turns to her, plasters on a fake smile, and turns back to the girls.</p><p>"If you don't want to be here, leave. Leave or try."</p><p>Jenna stands up and leaves. Heather flips her off and makes the rest of the teens go through the routine several times. She's critical of them all die to her mood, but Duke the most.</p><p>"No jewelry at practice. And maybe try different pants, these ones make it obvious you could stop traffic with your thighs."</p><p>Duke nods, her blood boiling. Every time they do a formation, Carter's hands end up on her chest or hips, once even on her inner thigh. McNamara will scream for her to stay still if she tries to getaway.</p><p>"Take a water break!"</p><p>Duke takes a sip of water and then notices Mac staring at her. She looks away and rounds the girls back up.</p><p>This time, McNamara notices what Carter is doing, and so do most of the girls. She stops the music.</p><p>"Is it true, Carter? Does it feel like plastic? Do you think her surgeon did a good job?"</p><p>Duke's face goes bright red. Veronica looks up from her notebook as the guys around her- and some of the girls- laugh.</p><p>"Now, if you're done feeling her up, can we get on with things? Just rub Barbie," she says as she walks over to the music. "You'll get the same effect."</p><p>Heather Duke has to make a choice on what she wants: to be a cheerleader or not because of how tempted she is to give Heather a taste of her own medicine. Everyone is whispering behind their hands as she stares at the floor.</p><p>"Water break again, sorry guys. The music is acting up."</p><p>She walks over to Duke, slapping her water bottling and causing it to run down the front of her shirt.</p><p>"Oops. You'll have to take that off, it's distracting and uncomfortable for you and everyone else. It's also a safety hazard."</p><p>A hazard because of what? Duke thinks. "Y-you mean I have to be in just my bra?"</p><p>She rolls her eyes. "It's not a big deal. There are only three guys here, and normally you'd be perfectly comfortable showing off your chest." She says the last part loud enough for a few girls to hear.</p><p>Heather finally takes her shirt off. When she does, Heather McNamara is the first to burst out laughing. There are scars on her stomach and what looks like stretch marks on her hips. Girls stifle their laughter, some of them only laughing because of McNamara.</p><p>"For everything that you've done to me," she says quietly before jogging off. This time, she wants Heather higher, standing with one leg on two girl's knees. Only a few feet up, she begins to feel dizzy. Very, very dizzy.</p><p>"...two three four, five six, seven eight!"</p><p>Everything spins. She feels her stomach turn, her support from under her sliding away under her feet. She's only nauseous for a second before she starts vomiting.</p><p>Someone screams, startling her foundation and causing them to scamper away. She falls to the floor. The side of her face meets a hard floor.</p><p>There are heavy laughter and the click of a camera around her.</p><p>"Someone took a face-plant..." is all it takes for her tears to form and wet her face and the floor even more. She slowly pulls herself up, still dizzy. A blur of blue is moving closer to her.</p><p>"Heather. Heather, are you okay?"</p><p>"You should find this funnier than any of us, Ronnie! Considering..." Heather McNamara sees Veronica's face and goes silent.</p><p>Duke, leaning on Veronica, begins to limp across the gym. Her tears flow faster, and she pulls her into a bathroom to inspect her injuries.</p><p>She puts one hand on the sink and looks at herself in the mirror. Blood drips down past her lips from her nose, and there's a bruise on her cheek. Her hair is a mess and her scrunchie has fallen out almost completely. She lets go of Veronica and collapses in front of a toilet, McNamara's insults running through her mind.</p><p>Her thighs could stop traffic, and anyone in the gym would probably collapse from trying to hold her up. She wants them to know that she sees it. She sees how imperfect she is and the only way to fix it would be death.</p><p>She's beginning to come up with insults that they hadn't called her today- worthless, slut... now she's realizing what it feels like to be a Martha Dunstock. Everyone against you and nothing to live for.</p><p>Before she can stick her finger down her throat, Veronica pulls her back and makes her stand up. </p><p>"Heather, Stop. Doing this to yourself isn't going to make her do it any less."</p><p>They both sit down on the floor, and Heather pulls the leg of her pants up to reveal a bruise on her knee and a few on her ankles and shin. She pulls it back down and inspects the ones on her elbows. Veronica stands and wets a paper towel, beginning to dab at the blood.</p><p>"Why are you helping me?" She sniffles.</p><p>Veronica tosses the paper towel in the trash and then removes the scrunchie from her hair, running her fingers through it and then putting the scrunchie back in with a small smile, which Duke returns.</p><p>"Why's she doing this to me?" She asks, her voice shaking.</p><p>"I don't know..." Veronica places her hand on top of hers. "She's hurting, and grief makes people do really stupid things."</p><p>Heather nods, and Veronica takes her jacket off and hands it to her. She almost forgot she's shirtless and gratefully slips it on.</p><p>"Maybe Chandler was right."</p><p>"About what?"</p><p>"When she said that some people don't have a purpose. They live and die, and no one even notices." She pauses and glances at Veronica, more tears forming in her eyes. "I think that she was talking about me."</p><p>"No, Heather, you're not worthless."</p><p>Heather falls into her arms, not wanting her to see her cry harder despite knowing she can feel it. </p><p>"I'm so damn alone."</p><p>Veronica holds her tighter, her arms around her body because despite what she thinks, she's thin. Someone stands in the doorway, her expression sad. Her face seems to fall even more once she sees them.</p><p>"Ronnie-"</p><p>"Go away, Mac."</p><p>McNamara doesn't press it. Veronica's eyes say it all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What the hell- are you out of your damn mind?!"</p><p>Heather McNamara sighs and takes a step forward. She looks around at the empty gym, still reeking of puke but even more so of whatever cleaner the janitor sprayed to clean it up.</p><p>"I didn't know that would happen! I thought it would just... make her dizzy or high-"</p><p>"What if she had fallen on her head? Or broken her neck? Or had a seizure?! She could have died, Heather!" Veronica screams.</p><p>Heather M. Didn't know exactly what the pills were, but she looked them up and figured out as much as she could. Only taking several would kill her. She received the pills a few days ago in the mail. There was no return address, only her name, and "open alone."</p><p>"I didn't know it would happen. But after everything she's done to me-"</p><p>"For god's sake, Heather. Grow up! You complain about her revenge games and now you're only fueling it. Someone's going to get hurt even worse or someone's going to die."</p><p>Heather freezes. Then narrows her eyes, squinting at her. "You killed somebody! Stop trying to act like a saint, suddenly siding with Duke. Are you forgetting about all the things she's said about you?"</p><p>"I'm not siding with either of you. But I'm trying to stop you from doing something even stupider-"</p><p>"I don't need a babysitter. Not all of us kill our friends because we don't like them."</p><p>"Where did you even get the pills?!" </p><p>"They showed up at my doorstep. I didn't think they were dangerous, I..." </p><p>Veronica clunches her fists by her sides, her nails digging into her skin so far she thinks she feels drops of blood. "You don't know what you're talking about," she says, her voice so low that Heather sucks in a breath. "I didn't want Chandler dead. And what makes you any better than Duke or Chandler, huh? You say that I can trust you, but you're still one of them!"</p><p>"That's your fault!" Heather shouts back. Tears roll down her cheeks against her will. It all hits her in a wave of guilt. She told not only Veronica that she would change, but herself. Now she's going down the same evil path she started on, this time on her own. She fails to realize it was never merely Chandler's flame of evil that drove her, one inside of her as well. The room seems to spin.</p><p>"You only tolerate me because I could ruin your life, right? Because you know that I could go the cops tonight-" She thinks Veronica is going to punch her, but she gets closer and speaks softly instead.</p><p>"No. I tolerate you because I thought you were different." Veronica walks out of the gym before Mac can reply. She sits on the bleachers with her head in her hands, sobbing as Ronnie's footsteps recede.</p><p>Veronica slows her pace as she gets to the hallway. The halls of Westerburg contain flyers advertising fundraisers and anti-bullying posters. Now, it seems there are suicide hotlines around every corner and signs encouraging students to see the counselor.</p><p>She knows that she's meant for bigger things than Sherwood, Ohio, and Westerburg High School. Maybe Harvard, maybe Brown. But not this. The halls and every classroom they contain are laced with memories and the school as one is a huge reminder of the tragedies. The past. Who she almost became.</p><p>The pills... it couldn't be. Could it? No, she decides. They have a deal. They have a plan. And she isn't involved. </p><p>Maybe if she gets far, far away from here, she can heal. Not forget, she'll never forget. But maybe one day she'll be able to sleep through the night without her dreams being plagued with murder or blood. Maybe she'll stop being afraid of herself. Maybe one day she'll trust someone again. Maybe she'll let herself love again.</p><p>***</p><p>She drives home in silence but still hearing the cheerleading chants. She and Heather's relationship skidded off an icy road, one now drenched in harsh words and fear. Heather could go to the cops and turn her in for everything. And Veronica realizes she just may go to jail tonight.</p><p>Goodbye Harvard or Brown. Goodbye, the chance that anything gets better. She throws herself on her bed, ignoring the mountain of homework on her desk.</p><p>"I would never do that."</p><p>Veronica looks up to see Chandler standing at the end of her bed and sits up. "You saw everything?"</p><p>Heather nods.</p><p>"Really? You wouldn't?"</p><p>"Well, maybe to someone. But not to her." Heather sits on the edge of the bed, though she's floating an inch above it. "Quite the fight you and McNamara had. Thanks for the drama."</p><p>"Heather, when you aren't around me, where do you go?"</p><p>Before she can answer, Veronica is hit with a wave of nausea and runs into the bathroom, throwing up her lunch then dry heaving. It feels like someone is sucking the energy out of her body. She leans against the side of the bathtub and brushes her hair out of her face with her fingers. Her pale face is covered in sweat, and nausea still hasn't faded. Heather sits on her knees next to her, curious and concerned.</p><p>"What's wrong with you, Sawyer?"</p><p>"Don't know," Veronica manages, pulling herself to her feet. The floor wobbles under her as she's hit with a killer head rush, causing her to lean on the counter for a minute with her eyes closed. It takes every drop of energy she has left to carry herself to her bed. Heather is still watching her.</p><p>"I don't usually throw up in the afternoons, just after the nightmares when I wake up." Her stomach grumbles, but the last thing she wants is food. Unless it's licorice. She could eat two packs of licorice right now.</p><p>"Are the nightmares every night?"</p><p>"Almost. Even when I don't get them, sometimes." She pulls a blanket over herself, shivering. When she's still cold by the time she's covered in four blankets, she starts crying out of frustration about that and the ache in her lower back.</p><p>"Everything hurts."</p><p>"Period?"</p><p>"I'm late, but I'm always irregular. But no, I think I'm sick."</p><p>Heather purses her lips and glances at the girl clutching a pillow and mumbling complaints, unable to stay in the same position comfortably for long.</p><p>"Veronica? I'm home."</p><p>She groans in response as her mother walks upstairs. "I'm going to make some spaghetti."</p><p>"Ew. Do we have any chocolate syrup?"</p><p>Her mom squints at her. "Ew? What did you do with my daughter?"</p><p>"I want licorice," Veronica groans. "Or waffles. No, I want syrup. I want waffles with syrup and pickles."</p><p>Mom chuckles. "That's... disgusting. Do you feel okay?"</p><p>"I think I'm sick." She rolls over again, her lower back on fire. "I think I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up when my waffles are ready."</p><p>She closes her eyes, the last thing she sees being Chandler's smirk.</p><p>***</p><p>Heather McNamara could very well go to the cops with Veronica's secret. But instead, she decides to go to someone who can cause more damage before the authorities know the truth.</p><p>She's drenched in anger from Veronica's betrayal. A type of anger that makes her want to never stop crying and die at the same time. She not only failed the only friend she had left but failed herself and everyone else. This is her "screw-it!" moment, the time she thinks too much and not at all at once.</p><p>She has power. She has everything she needs to ruin the one above her, the brunette with that stupidly adorable smirk and that has book quotes carved into her desk. Her breathing slows as she approaches her ex-best friend.</p><p>"What do you want?" Duke snaps. Her mascara is ruined despite Veronica's efforts to fix it. She just got out of a yearbook committee meeting and stands next to her car, ready to leave the school in the dust behind her.</p><p>"I need to tell you something. Please, believe me, you'll want to know." McNamara looks around and then grabs Duke's arm, leading her a few more feet away, near the trees and feet from the woods.</p><p>"Well?" Duke demands. "What do you need to tell me?"</p><p>McNamara smirks and then sucks in a breath. She doesn't bother to control her volume or the speed of her voice as she says three words.</p><p>"Veronica killed Heather."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Nine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Next day~</p><p>Voicemail #1</p><p>"Uh... Veronica, I need to talk to you. Call me back. I'm sorry, but please, just call me."</p><p>Voicemail #2:</p><p>"It's Heather again. Please answer! We need to talk! I screwed up!"</p><p>Voicemail #3:</p><p>"Please, I'm serious! We need to talk!"</p><p>None of her calls are returned. Veronica lays in bed, taking the day off of school. A pile of schoolwork she needs to catch up on sits on her desk. She rocks back and forth on her bed, arms around her legs as she sobs. Her lower back is once again on fire, and her shoulders ache no matter how many times she stretches. Along with that, she's thrown up twice and her heartbeat won't seem to calm down. Every time she stands up she's hit with a headache-inducing head rush.</p><p>She groans again before forcing herself out of bed with every limb and muscle aching, trudging past the mirror and crying harder when she eyes pudge on her stomach that has gotten worse over the weeks despite trying harder in P.E and going on runs every once in a while.</p><p>Her body is exhausted, getting snippets of sleep with dreams so bad it's almost not worth it. It's as if she's permanently exhausted.</p><p>She decides to do something she hasn't done in a while: sneak a bottle of beer from the garage fridge. It burns on the way down but she chugs half the bottle nonetheless. It's not only to numb the physical pain but to forget for a while.</p><p>Screw Mac.<br/>Screw JD.<br/>Screw Westerburg High School.<br/>Screw Duke.</p><p>She finishes the bottle with a few Advil and then lights a cigarette, burning herself on accident and beginning to cry again.</p><p>Jesus, why am I so emotional?</p><p>She grabs a second beer and finishes her cigarette. The pain in her back is beginning to ease, but she can still feel it. It feels like something is punching her in the stomach, a cramp that doesn't feel... usual.</p><p>Then she begins to throw up. Again.</p><p>Unknowing of her fever, she wraps a blanket around her shoulders and lays on the bathroom floor. When she can barely breathe and her face is bright red, she swallows another Advil with another sip of beer.</p><p>The phone is ringing in the other room but everything is spinning too much for her to move. The cold tile feels like an ice cube against her bare skin. She strips to her bra and underwear before stretching out on the floor again. The Advil is starting to kick in, the bottle next to her along with the beer. She can't bring herself to drink anymore.</p><p>McNamara finishes her voicemail as Veronica drifts off to sleep.</p><p>***</p><p>Heather screams. She can't contain it when she sees Veronica laying on the floor. She's too still, and the bottle of pills next to her is too empty.</p><p>"Ronnie! Wake up!" She yells, tears rolling down her face. Veronica stirs.</p><p>"Hmmm?" When her eyes open all the way she shrieks. "W-when did you...?"</p><p>"Ronnie-" Mac throws her arms around her. "I thought- I came here because I got worried. You wouldn't answer... I'm sorry."</p><p>"It's good, sunshine," Veronica mumbles, reaching over and taking a swing of her beer before Heather takes it from her.</p><p>"You're drunk." She places her hand on her forehead. "And I think you have a fever."</p><p>"I'm fine. Hold me," Veronica slurs, falling back into Mac's arms.</p><p>"Let's get you dressed." She helps Veronica stand up and leads her to her bedroom, grabbing a clean shirt and leggings from the dresser and tossing them on the bed.</p><p>"Don't look at me, I'm fat."</p><p>"You're not fat. Come on, get dressed."</p><p>Veronica starts crying, and Mac puts an arm over her shoulders until she stops and starts getting dressed.</p><p>"I need to tutor you. Sit." She gestures to her desk chair.</p><p>"Not right-"</p><p>"You know algebra? I think that the mechanics are like... numbers but then you add the denominator-" she yawns and almost falls down.</p><p>"Ronnie, we can do schoolwork later. You need to lay down." She walks out of the room and dampens a washcloth, bringing it back in and placing it across Veronica's forehead when she lays down.</p><p>"It changes to a letter. And t-then- Sunshine." She pokes her shoulder and then starts giggling. "Lay down with me."</p><p>Heather obeys, and Veronica giggles again and mumbled inaudible words in her ear.</p><p>"Do you think he misses me?"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"D-Do you think he misses me? Before the bomb when off-"</p><p>"Ronnie, JD's dead," Heather says softly, taking her hand.</p><p>Veronica shakes her head. "N-no."</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Heather- but he-"</p><p>"Shhh. You need to rest." She snuggles up next to her, her head on her shoulder. Veronica finally sighs and relaxes next to her, their breathing almost in sync as she drifts off to sleep.</p><p>***</p><p>When Veronica wakes up, before Heather can greet her, she runs to the bathroom and starts throwing up. Another nightmare. The Advil is beginning to wear off. Heather thinks it's from the alcohol.</p><p>Chandler thinks she knows the truth before Veronica does.</p><p>"Alright, you okay?"</p><p>Veronica rinses her mouth out and follows Heather to the living room.</p><p>"Want to watch a movie?"</p><p>"Sure," Veronica smiles, still nauseous from the alcohol and sickness combined. "Hold on." She runs into the kitchen and grabs a bag of licorice, along with pickles, an orange, and shredded cheese.  She melts the cheese on the bread and adds the pickles and oranges. She grabs that and the licorice and sits down next to Heather.</p><p>"Uh..."</p><p>"Hmmm?" Veronica mumbles, her mouth full of the food. She notices the look of disgust on Heather's face. "Oh-sorry- did you want one?"</p><p>"I'm good."</p><p>Veronica shrugs and swallows the rest of it, offering her licorice. She accepts and turns to the movie.</p><p>"I'm sorry, Veronica." Her eyes fill with tears. "I really am."</p><p>"Tell Duke that."</p><p>"Are we still friends...? You're all I have, and I promise I'm going to try to be better. You give me a reason to be."</p><p>Veronica bites her lip, secretly touched by her words. "Heather..." she sighs, and Heather begins to cry harder. "You don't need to cry. I'm not going to leave you, Alright?"</p><p>Mac hugs her so tight she can barely breathe. "Also, can I take you up on that tutoring offer? We can talk more about... everything..."</p><p>"Yeah, I have some homework I need to make up. Maybe you can help me with history?"</p><p>Heather smiles. "Deal." Her face turns darker. "Uh... Ronnie... I need to tell you something..."</p><p>The phone rings before she can finish before she can confess what she did and just how bad she is. She's sitting closest to it, so she gets up to answer.</p><p>"If it's my mom, tell her I called you because I wasn't feeling well!"</p><p>"Okay!" Heather shouts back, picking up the phone. "Hello?"</p><p>Veronica watches the color drain out of her face as she listens, asking weird questions like "how?" and then puts the phone back up.</p><p>"Heather...? Who was it?"</p><p>Heather's breathing speeds up. She feels paralyzed as if her body has shut down on the spot, time moving in slow motion but too fast all at once. "School.... the.... tribute..."</p><p>"What? Talk to me... what happened?"</p><p>Swallowing the lump in her throat, Heather says, "It was the school. About the tribute."</p><p>"...What?"</p><p>"Duke. She shot herself."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Ten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything went black for Heather. Rain patters onto her face, dripping off of her chin as the wind blows through her hair. She's alone, stuck in the void, falling fast.</p><p>She opens her eyes to remember that it isn't raining, but she's sobbing in Veronica's arms. It isn't wind, but Veronica running her fingers through her hair in a hope to calm her down. It's where they've been for the last hour, and Heather can't seem to find solid ground. She clutches onto Veronica like she's the only thing she has left, and now, she is.</p><p>"I need t-to tell you s-something."</p><p>Veronica nods, not wanting to make her break down again.</p><p>"I told her. I was mad at you and I told Duke that you killed Heather I'm sorry Ronnie-"</p><p>"Shhh. It's okay."</p><p>Heather tilts her head. "But..."</p><p>"She's gone, it doesn't matter." The main question that's running through Veronica's mind is why? She'd made her promise that they'd go get lunch or go shopping sometime soon, and now she's gone. Did It have to do with what Mac did? If so, wouldn't she have done it the day of?</p><p>"It was my fault. I killed my best friend!"</p><p>"No. No, Mac, it's not your fault." She grips both of her shoulders, looking into her red-rimmed and puffy eyes. "Look at me. What she did has nothing to do with you, Alright?"</p><p>"I didn't know what the pills would do. I got them in the mail-"</p><p>"You did a really stupid thing, but that's not why she's dead. She did this to herself. It's okay to be sad, but don't blame yourself."</p><p>Heather nods, a warm tear running down her face and to the Cupid's bow of her top lip, dripping off of the bottom one. She lets Veronica hold her again. She thinks about everything until her head hurts and she's all cried out.</p><p>Veronica lays her down, giving her an ice pack for her head and an Advil with some water.</p><p>"Another funeral..."</p><p>"Try not to think about it. We'll figure everything out."</p><p>The sudden shock hasn't helped Veronica's nausea. After Heather is settled, she throws up the snacks she ate earlier and then opens up her diary.</p><p>Dear Diary,</p><p>Duke killed herself. Mac is right, there's going to be another funeral. It's a bittersweet tragedy, someone with so much power giving it up for death. In a way, it's a sacrifice for other's happiness. Now there's only one Heather left, and she doesn't seem to be in a huge rush to cause destruction. With Duke gone too, I'm hoping things will settle down. Is the war finally over? Maybe I'm evil, but I feel... relief. It's selfish. Someone who was supposed to be my best friend killed herself and I'm not even crying. I should be, but I can't. It won't bring her back or help me feel better.</p><p>I'm tired.</p><p>She signs her initials and rubs her temple, thinking over what she wrote. Before memories can catch up to her, she lays down next to Heather and closes her eyes.</p><p>***</p><p>"So... what happened, if you don't mind me asking? Also, do you have any vanilla ice cream?" Veronica's mom elbows her in the ribs. Mrs. Duke nods.</p><p>"Help yourself." She seats herself next to Veronica's mom, in front of the dinner they brought over as Veronica stands and spoons ice cream into a bowl. "And it all felt so... fast. I got home and she was laying on her bedroom floor with a gun in her hand... I could tell she was dead. One look and I knew my baby was dead!" She blots at forming tears with a tissue. Veronica suspects that the reaction is a bit- if not fully- forced. Duke always complained about her mom, and she's always been lazy and critical. Especially of her dead daughter.</p><p>"Uh, sorry to interrupt, but do you have any oregano?"</p><p>Mrs. Sawyer's eyes widen as if she cursed.</p><p>"Cabinet to the left above the stove," Mrs. Duke says blandly, staring straight ahead. Veronica dumps oregano over the ice cream and then shovels it into her mouth, causing her mom to give her another disapproving look. They talk for several minutes, their conversation consisting of condolences and gentle questions. Veronica's mind is everywhere but the kitchen. She itches to go upstairs, to investigate. A part of her has always been the type that thirsts for knowledge and answers. And the room of the victim is often where the answers to suicide lie.</p><p>Before they leave, Veronica excuses herself to the bathroom (for about the fourth time), but she sneaks into Duke's room instead.</p><p>There are posters and magazine pages plastered to the walls, a light green bedspread covered in throw pillows, and lacy white curtains. Her vanity has red and pink lipsticks and a measuring tape, residue from old stickers on the wooden rim of the mirror above it.</p><p>A fuzzy black rug sits on the floor. Not usual, but Veronica recalls what Mrs. Duke said. "...found her on the bedroom floor..."</p><p>She lifts up the rug. Dark red stains coat the white carpet. It almost looks brown, but the way the carpet around it seems to glow makes it brighter. Veronica shudders and tosses the rug back over it. This is where it happened, this is where the died. There's a heaviness in the room, weighted energy. But there's also peace. Sprinkles of peace where she isn't coated in pain.</p><p>Heather went home, and Veronica is dreading facing tonight alone. She already knows that he will be there and the hours leading up to sleep will be spent bracing herself for an explosion in front of her. Duke's death will only make it worse.</p><p>As Veronica sits on Duke's bed, Heather paces around Chandler's. It was locked when she got there, but she got a key from Heather's mom before she rushed off to wherever she was headed in a tight dress. Mr. Chandler isn't there either, leaving Mac to the ocean of reds and whites and memories.</p><p>"Duke's dead," she says out loud. "I Uh... I don't know if you can like... see me? Or anyone? But if you can, could you, I don't know, give me a sign or something?"</p><p>Heather Chandler watches her from the middle of the room. She reaches her arm out, using energy to knock over a perfume bottle. It falls to the floor with a thud and shatters.</p><p>"Dammit. That was expensive," she mutters.</p><p>Mac jumps to her feet. "Heather?"</p><p>"Hola," Chandler says as she studies how much of a mess McNamara is. She longs for her to see her, to hug her, or perform one of those stupid rituals that supposedly brings back the dead. She swallows back her tears and puts a hand on her shoulder.</p><p>McNamara shivers, rubbing her arms. "Chandler? I'm alone. Are you? Are you with Duke?"</p><p>Chandler sighs and sits next to her, only for her to stand up.</p><p>"I shouldn't be here..." chickening out on what she's been wanting to do for weeks, she runs out of the room, leaving chandler crying with her arm extended and left touching nothing but air.</p><p>***</p><p>At school, all anyone seems to be talking about is Heather's death. It isn't helping McNamara or Veronica when teachers are acting like the students have never heard of violence or death before and the students are whispering behind their hands.</p><p>Veronica hides behind her diary to get through the day. Mac stays by her side as much as she can, fearing that she's bothering her despite Veronica's reassurances that she's not.</p><p>"It's like Chandler all over again," she tells her as they walk to Veronica's car. "Ronnie..."</p><p>"Yeah?" Veronica notices her sudden change in mood. She's not in the best one herself, throwing up several times today and on the verge of seeing a doctor.</p><p>Martha and Betty Finn approach, still feet away. They exchange a glance when they see Heather and Veronica arguing and decide to wait.</p><p>"You're saying she killed herself because I killed Heather?!"</p><p>"I mean- you killed her best friend!"</p><p>"Jesus, Mac- you're-" they both turn to see the two girls looking at them. Betty takes a step forward, the color leaving her face.</p><p>"Did you say you... killed Heather...?"</p><p>Veronica glares at McNamara.</p><p>"Don't turn this on me- and they won't tell anyone, right guys? Right."</p><p>"Look, we're all tired and sad and I feel like I'm going to throw up my non-existent lunch, so can you please just get in the car?" Veronica turns to Martha and Betty. "What do you guys need?"</p><p>"W-we were going to see if you guys wanted to have a movie night tonight," Martha says quietly. "But if you don't want to we can reschedule-"</p><p>"No, no. It's fine. But about what you-"</p><p>"We won't tell anyone. Wait, so I was right?" Martha's face lights up. "It was murder! I knew it wasn't suicide, but no one believed me.</p><p>Hiding her nerves and clenched fists, Ronnie nods. "Guys-"</p><p>"What about Ram and Kurt? And Duke? Were they-"</p><p>"Listen to me!"</p><p>Surprised by her sudden anger, they fall silent.</p><p>"I didn't kill Ram, or Kurt, or Duke. I was tricked into killing Heather. I didn't want anyone dead!" She shouts, anxiety creeping up on her. Martha and Betty wouldn't dare to even try to tell anyone, for no one would believe them if they did. They'd only embarrass themselves and lose Veronica.</p><p>"Calm down, Ronnie. We believe you."</p><p>Betty Finn nods, and Veronica turns back to the car and Heather. "Maybe we can have a movie night this weekend. I'll see you guys around."</p><p>She gets in the car and slams the door.</p><p>They know. Everyone knows. Goodbye, Harvard. You're going to jail tonight.</p><p>She takes a deep breath and starts the car. McNamara stays silent in the passenger seat, knowing better than to ask questions when she's in this mood. Either their relationship is on the rocks, or something is going on with Veronica.</p><p>It's grief, Heather tells herself. She's just as sad as I am.</p><p>But the mood swings were happening before Duke's death. It could be the October incident that Ronnie barely speaks of, or something else.</p><p>Veronica drives in matching silence. Her thoughts are loud enough to pass as two people. It's over, is her reassurance. Duke will have a funeral, people will move on, I'll have movie nights like always with Martha and Betty and things will be normal.</p><p>The war of the past is over, she thinks. But after the past weeks' events- after the incident- this can't be further from the truth.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Eleven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Veronica, Heather, Martha, and Betty sit in the back row at the Westerburg tribute for Heather Duke. Martha is in a long sleeve black shirt with lace around the collar and sleeves, and Betty is in a frilly black dress. Veronica tried on a few of her dresses, but none of them fit her correctly anymore, and it was too late to go and buy one. She threw an oversized hoodie over a black shirt and went to put on a skirt, only to have it be so tight she couldn't button it. Her other skirts felt tight, so she went with leggings. She feels underdressed compared to Heather next to her, who's in a tight black dress and heels.</p><p>With a headache and hunger, her mind is everywhere but in the gym, as horrible as that seems. Heather Duke's mom speaks about how no one deserves to feel the loss of their child, and how bright Heather was.</p><p>"I could find this on a hallmark card," Veronica whispers to Heather McNamara. Then she realizes that she's crying and drapes an arm over her shoulders. "We'll get out of here soon, alright? Maybe we can go to lunch or something."</p><p>"Sounds good," Heather whispers back, leaning against her. "Where were you thinking, Mel's?"</p><p>"I don't know... I want fruit loops with pepper jack cheese and pickles."</p><p>Heather stifles a laugh. "Good luck finding that."</p><p>They turn back to the service, where a classmate claiming to have been friends with Heather is now talking. Veronica eventually curls up, her head on McNamara's lap.</p><p>She looks around the gym: the tile floor, the stupid nutrition posters and the folded up tables that have been moved for rows of chairs.</p><p>Five</p><p>Four</p><p>Three</p><p>Two-</p><p>The flash of an explosion causes her to whisper through a shaky sob. Heather looks down in concern, but a new picture is already dancing in front of her.</p><p>"You killed my best friend!"</p><p>"Our love is god, let's go get a slushie."</p><p>She hasn't had a slushie since him. She squeezes her eyes shut but still sees red, the ticking and explosion over and over again. She moves her hand blindly, looking for Heather's. When she fails to find is she cries harder. Her hands go over her ears. There's muffled talking and crying, then clapping.</p><p>Someone runs their fingers through her hair.</p><p>Going up.<br/>Going down,<br/>Down,<br/>Down.</p><p>She can feel an arm around her waist, then a mug in her hand. She seems to glide instead of walk, her feet not fully hitting the ground as she hands it to Heather.</p><p>Too much.</p><p>There's too much to feel. First Heather falling through a glass table, the sound of it shattering and the life leaving her. The sound of a gunshot. Running through the woods with someone's hand in hers. His smirk, the feeling of safety. The warning signs she didn't see.</p><p>He lied. And she believed it.</p><p>Stupid<br/>Stupid <br/>Stupid</p><p>People are dead. People are devastated. Secrets are bound to get out- her tears flow faster. They can't.</p><p>The risks that adults don't believe. The danger. The constant fear- The Fear.</p><p>The fear that paralyzes her in bed and steals the air from her lungs. The fear that makes her pace around for hours with his gun. The fear that she can't speak of. The fear that could take her life.</p><p>Spinning<br/>Around <br/>&amp; Around</p><p>Everything is dirty, tarnished. The rest of her life she'll have to face the past-</p><p>"Dear Diary-"</p><p>Goodbye, college. A future. It's ruined, shattered glass slipping in between her fingers and leaving slices of stinging.</p><p>She feels everything shaking and braces herself for the bomb.</p><p>Five.<br/>Four.<br/>Three.<br/>Two.<br/>One.</p><p>It never goes off. But the world continues to shake.</p><p>"...Ronnie, look at me! Open your eyes!"</p><p>"Veronica!"</p><p>"Ms. Sawyer, are you alright?"</p><p>She opens her eyes and blinks several times. Unable to breathe, she claws at her neck, struggling to get whatever is preventing air off. She can barely feel the pain of the scratches.</p><p>Fatigue sinks in as she rolls off of something hard and onto the floor. Voices call from above her.</p><p>She pulls herself to her feet, struggling to form words.</p><p>"...the bomb, get it off..." she manages to croak out. Her vision finally focuses. Martha and Heather exchange a glance, and a teacher is next to them.</p><p>"There's no bomb, Ronnie. Breathe," a soft voice says before her knees give out from under her. She doesn't hit the ground but feels arms around her waist and someone holding her hand.</p><p>Her eyes have been open, but it's only now that she becomes aware of where she is. Heather Duke's funeral. She isn't underwater but weeping.</p><p>"In and out. Try to breathe." '</p><p>She swallows and tries to, beginning to cough but gaining control. Heather follows her into a bathroom, where she grips the edge of the sink and continues to struggle to catch her breath. It felt like hours past, but it must have been minutes.</p><p>"How do you feel?"</p><p>She turns to Heather and gives a thumbs up. "Amazing."</p><p>Her reflection proves it's only sarcasm. Along with ruined makeup and red scratches from her chin down to her collarbone, her skin is pale enough you'd think she died instead of Duke. That's the last thing she notices before falling to her knees in front of a toilet and puking up her orange juice and licorice breakfast.</p><p>"We need to get you to a doctor, Ronnie. This has been going on for days," Heather says, removing a yellow scrunchie from her hair and tying Veronica's back with it.</p><p>"It's just... a stomach bug or something," Veronica replies, wiping her mouth and standing up.</p><p>"A bad one. I'll drive you home, School is ending early today anyway."</p><p>"But-"</p><p>"Veronica Sawyer, get in the damn car before I drag you there by my own scrunchie."</p><p>Veronica raises her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine."</p><p>Heather smiles. "Good."</p><p>***</p><p>"Do you still want to stop somewhere?"</p><p>"Home. I'll make something there. You don't need to drive, I don't want you to have to walk home-"</p><p>"I live like two streets down. I'll be fine." Heather presses her lips together and glances at Veronica, who takes out a pack of cigarettes.</p><p>"Do you care?"</p><p>"Go ahead, I get it."</p><p>Veronica lights one and offers one to Heather, who declines. They drive in silence for the next few minutes.</p><p>"Betty and Martha are worried about you, you know. So am I."</p><p>"Don't be."</p><p>She scoffs and watches her kick her feet up on the dash.</p><p>"How am I supposed to do that, Sawyer? You're sick, you're having panic attacks, you're acting... strange-"</p><p>"I have a stomach bug, Heather. I'm not dying. And-"</p><p>"I mean seriously, your mood swings are crazy, you're crying all the time-"</p><p>"Someone died!"</p><p>"You didn't cry when she died!" Heather shouts back, stopping for a red light. "You sleep all the time... I mean, you tried to tell me JD is alive while you were drunk, Ronnie."</p><p>"I was drunk."</p><p>"You looked horrible! And why are you getting drunk while you're alone in the first place?"</p><p>"Would you stop interrogating me?" Veronica snaps.</p><p>Heather lets out a large sigh, licking her lips and keeping her eyes on the road. Veronica is beginning to regret letting her drive. She'd given Heather a ride to school, meaning she has to drive her back home or make her take the bus. </p><p>"You're either depressed or pregnant. You can tell me which one."</p><p>"Neither."</p><p>"Well, goddamn, Veronica." She smacks the steering wheel and slams on the gas with so much force they both fly forward. "Something is wrong. And I don't know what to do. Do I tell your parents? Do I get you to go to therapy? I'll pay for it if that's what it takes-"</p><p>"Mac."</p><p>"-Do I fall a doctor because you won't unless you're dying? Are you dying?"</p><p>"Macaroni."</p><p>"And do I try to talk to you about the things that you're having panic attacks about, what can or can't I say? Is it about-"</p><p>"Macaroon."</p><p>"And if I mess up one more time, it's done! I'll be completely alone. I can't lose you, Veronica. And maybe you're scared of people caring about you-"</p><p>"Heather!"</p><p>"What?!"</p><p>Veronica lights another cigarette. "You passed my house."</p><p>"Dammit!" The tires screech as she spins around and slams on the gas.</p><p>"Fast and the Furious much?"</p><p>"Shut up."</p><p>They park in Veronica's driveway and both get out of the car.</p><p>"I'm still pissed at you, you know," Heather grumbles as they hug.</p><p>Veronica kisses her on the cheek and breaks off, walking up to the front door. "I'm sure you are. We still on for lunch sometime this week?"</p><p>"Let me think... oh wait, all my other friends are dead. I don't have anything else to do, so yes." She plasters on a dramatic smile, causing Veronica to roll her eyes.</p><p>"See you soon, sunshine."</p><p>"Don't call me that!"</p><p>"Oh, You love me, sunshine."</p><p>Heather crosses her arms in front of her chest and pretends to be mad. "Sure I do."</p><p>"You said it."</p><p>She flips her off through giggles. Veronica blows her a kiss and disappears inside, leaving her grinning like an idiot on the doorstep.</p><p>***</p><p>When Heather reaches her own house, she isn't as smiley. A small plastic bag sits on the porch. She picks it up and goes inside, not looking at it until she's in the kitchen.</p><p>A tape falls out. The label reads her name and nothing else.</p><p>Veronica couldn't have put it there today, and she would have seen it last night. She enters the living room, reeking of wine, and kneels next to the player. It slides in and whirs before popping up on the TV.</p><p>Heather sits back and watches. Her breathing increases as she swallows and forces herself to finish it. Tears roll down her cheeks, and she hugs her knees to her chest and debates whether or not to call Ronnie. </p><p>Two girls stand on the screen, talking in the Westerburg High front parking lot. She recognizes it as she rewinds it for the second time. Yes, the tree in the background and the edge of a car are the ones from a few days ago. One of the girl's mouths falls open as the other one smirks.</p><p>Panic takes over and expresses itself through sobs. This is why she died, it has to be. It doesn't make sense.</p><p>She closes her eyes for a second and then opens them again. Unable to help herself, she watches it again.</p><p>Every time, she watches the same thing: herself and Duke.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Twelve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Calm down, Heather. It's a prank. People are mad at you, and as much as I hate this, some of them think you killed Heather."</p><p>Heather clutches the phone so tight her knuckles turn white. "But-"</p><p>"Don't freak yourself out. I'm telling you, it was a stupid freshman or a bored senior trying to scare you," Veronica says in a hope to calm her down. There's shuffling on the other end before her voice comes through again. "I have to go, Mac. Stay safe, okay?"</p><p>"Y-you too." She hangs up and waits for her dad to get home, but the anxiety never leaves.</p><p>***<br/>Two Days Later~</p><p>Veronica can't focus on her schoolwork. If she isn't going to get into college anyways, what's the point? She gives up a half-hour later, leaning back in her desk chair.</p><p>"Heather?"</p><p>The room doesn't change. Veronica sighs before an all too familiar wave of nausea hits her, her mouth feeling wet and her eyes watering. After puking her guts out, she returns to her room to see Chandler next to her bed.</p><p>"Hey."</p><p>"Still sick?"</p><p>"Yeah." She groans and flops down on the bed, every limb weighted with invisible boulders. "Everything hurts."</p><p>Heather presses her lips into a tight line.</p><p>"What? I know that face..."</p><p>"What if it's not a stomach bug?" She asks.</p><p>Veronica furrows a brow and shifts to her side. "What are you implying?"</p><p>"I dunno. But it's more than throwing up. You're eating the weirdest foods, you're gaining weight-"</p><p>"I'm not that fat!" She begins to cry into her pillow.</p><p>"That's not what I said. Also, you're emotional as hell."</p><p>Ronnie sniffles and curls into a ball. "So?"</p><p>"Veronica, is there any possibility that you might be pregnant?"</p><p>She turns her head and begins to cry harder. "Stop."</p><p>"I'm being realistic here-"</p><p>"Shut up! Go away."</p><p>"You shut up, Sawyer. I'm trying to help you. I know a thing or two about pregnancy-"</p><p>"You don't know anything, you're dead!"</p><p>"And what about when I was alive?" Heather challenges.</p><p>"You've never been pregnant before," Veronica spits back.</p><p>"No, but I've been raped before. And I've had to take pregnancy tests before, and I've worried myself so sick about it that I thought I was."</p><p>Veronica is still stuck on the first thing she said. "You... What?" She sits up and stares at her, her mouth slightly open.</p><p>"There are things you don't know, Sawyer. If you don't want my help-"</p><p>"No, don't leave!"</p><p>Heather smirks at her words. "That changed quick." Her face turns darker, a vulnerability Veronica has never seen her wear. "That's why I don't tell people. I don't want you to look at me differently and pity me for the rest of my miserable afterlife."</p><p>"I'm not looking at you different. But who-"</p><p>"Not today, Ronnie. Keep it about you." Heather wants to cry, and if ghosts could cry, she'd be weeping on the floor, not caring who sees. The painful energy she's stuck with can't be expressed anymore, and the feeling makes her a prisoner to herself. There's nowhere to turn.</p><p>Veronica nods. "Okay... well, I'm sorry. And..." she takes a deep breath, more tears coming down in streams. "I can't be! I mean, I could be..."</p><p>"Alright, well, take a test."</p><p>"But..." it's all happening fast now. Symptoms... a test... the possibility on its own makes her want to hide under her blanket and cry for the rest of her life. "I'm scared," she admits.</p><p>Chandler snorts. "Of the test? It's not that hard, all you-"</p><p>"No, not the test..."</p><p>She stares at Veronica for a long second before she understands. Her face softens, and she moves as close to her as she can.</p><p>"You're scared of it being positive?"</p><p>Ronnie nods, whimpering before snuggling up close. "I'm terrified. I can't have a baby... what about college? And what would my parents think? What if they kick me out?! I'd be homeless with a baby-" she breaks down on herself, her head on knees as sobs shake her entire body.</p><p>"Don't think like that. And you wouldn't be homeless, McNamara would take you to her place in a second."</p><p>"I c-couldn't d-do that to-" hic "h-her..."</p><p>Chandler scoffs. "She'd love that, I see the way she looks at you. And I doubt your parents would leave you homeless to raise a baby."</p><p>Now the crying girl looks up. "What do you mean the way she looks at me?"</p><p>Heather says nothing.</p><p>"Can we talk about something else?"</p><p>"We can try," Chandler replies, secretly enjoying the company and wishing they could talk for eternity. It's not like she has anything better to do.</p><p>"Alright... uh...."</p><p>"Do you miss Jesse James?"</p><p>Veronica exhales and fiddles with the string of her hoodie. "Can we talk about something else, else?"</p><p>"You're shooting down all my ideas, so you start."</p><p>"O-okay..." when she fails to think of something, Heather speaks.</p><p>"How are Martha Dumptruck and Huckleberry Finn?"</p><p>"They were at the tribute for Duke... the funeral's in a few days. They're good..."</p><p>"You guys should have a movie night or something," Heather says, surprising Veronica. She's never cared out snuggling up in the dark with a sappy romance movie and popcorn before.</p><p>Veronica shrugs. "I told them maybe sometime..." she looks up at her with a grin tugging at her lips.</p><p>"What is it, Sawyer?"</p><p>"We could have a movie night. I-If you want to." For once, Heather nods. Veronica has made the offer plenty of times before she died, but she always turned her down for a party or something more interesting. Sometimes, she'd be too socially drained to do anything once she got home and end up asleep by six o clock.</p><p>Veronica returns her smile.</p><p>A movie night is something normal. Something that doesn't have to do with death or funerals in real life. She can put the nagging worries and fear aside for a few hours and get lost in a screen. She and Heather spend the next few minutes arguing about movies until they've narrowed it down to three, and Veronica runs off to rent them. Heather paces- floats- around the house.</p><p>She's always liked Veronica's house. Something about it makes it feel safe. Homey. She laughs at the hamster on the other side of the room before rolling her eyes.</p><p>The small things around the room scream Veronica, but you'd only know if you knew her. The punctuation symbols as drawer knobs on the nightstand, the blue items sprinkled around the room and random quotes carved and written on her desk. Heather tries to put her hand on the desk, but of course, it goes through it. She tries again and again only to receive the same result each time. Finally, she lets out a frustrated groan and gives up, laying down a few inches above the bed to wait for Veronica.</p><p>***<br/>School On Monday~</p><p>Heather McNamara has the feeling that something is wrong. Unusual nausea in her stomach and her intuition telling her to do something- she isn't sure what- make her antsy through her classes and her attention span as short as her patience.</p><p>Veronica doesn't show up to school, only adding to the anxiety. There's no one there to tell her that she's being dramatic, that everything's fine and it's the recent death that's shaken her up. Everyone is acting off.</p><p>After school, she walks to Veronica's. Her stomach seems to be a pit full of worry by the time the reaches the front door. When no one answers, she lets herself in.</p><p>"Veronica? It's Heather!"</p><p>She makes her way down the hallway and braces herself for the worst. Is she drunk, passed out, high, or... dead? Almost expecting to see her laying on the floor with a bullet hole in her head, she opens the door to her bedroom. Empty.</p><p>She turns to the closed bathroom door and knocks.</p><p>"Veronica? It's Heather, are you okay?"</p><p>No answer, but a few seconds later the door unlocks with a click. She takes that as an okay to come in and braces herself again.</p><p>Veronica isn't dead. She isn't laying on the floor with a bullet hole in her head or a knife in her stomach. She isn't even drunk.</p><p>She is, however, sobbing with a positive pregnancy test in front of her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Thirteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Right now, Veronica has bigger issues than Duke's death or upcoming funeral. Like the baby growing inside of her.</p><p>Heather is attempting to make sense of the gibberish she's stuttering out in between sobs, but it's not easy when she's mumbling and hiding her face with her hands on top of crying.</p><p>"Uhm... maybe it's not a horrible thing-" Heather starts, having no idea what to say.</p><p>"Ofcourseit'sahorriblethingI'm17!"</p><p>"I-I know... at least you're not 16?"</p><p>"My parents are going to d-disown me and leave me h-homeless or bury me in the backyard for b-being a disgrace to hum...humanity! Who gets p-pregnant at seventeen?!" She lets out something between a shriek and a sob, punching the cabinet under the sink. Heather winces. "I ruined my life. I'm g-going r...rot on the s-side of the stree-t-"</p><p>"No, no. I'm not going to let that happen. I'm sure your parents will help you while you go to school-"</p><p>"Nooooo! I'm g-going to have to tell th...them that I'm..."</p><p>Heather rakes her fingers through her hair as she curls into a tight ball, her head on Heather's leg and her hands shaking under against her chest.</p><p>"We'll figure everything out, Ronnie."</p><p>"My life is falling apart." It's true enough to make her cry even harder. By now, Heather is worried that she'll pass out but resists the urge to get her water since she's laying on her.</p><p>Everything is falling apart, a huge avalanche that's hitting her with a force she never knew existed. First the Westerburg incident, then Duke, yesterday's panic attack, Heather's video incident, and now this. She begins to wonder if things will ever calm down. Even when she gets out of Sherwood, the past tragedies will still linger, preventing her from living a normal life.</p><p>"I can't do it, Heather. I can't do it." She wipes her cheek, slick with tears.</p><p>"I know you're scared. But we're going to figure everything out, and I won't let anything bad happen to you- or mini you."</p><p>Veronica laughs and curls up smaller as Heather puts an arm around her. "I'm not going to make you help me. You've done enough, and it's my fault-"</p><p>"Stop. You don't need to do everything alone, you know. And of course, I'm going to help you."</p><p>"Why? I killed your best friend, and now I'm..." she can't bring herself to say "pregnant" without crying again.</p><p>"I know. I know it's a lot at once, but you're not going to do it alone." She squeezes her hand and holds her until the tears stop, leaving an exhausted, dehydrated, and pregnant Veronica slumped against her, close to being asleep but knowing sleep won't come easy with the newfound information.</p><p>She groans and sits up. "I need a beer."</p><p>"Nope. You need water. And no more smoking for you."</p><p>She groans again. "I already hate this." She grips the edge of the counter and gets to her feet, leaning on Heather again once standing.</p><p>"Ronnie, do you have any idea how long you've been...? Before this?"</p><p>She thinks as she lays on the couch, doing mental math as Heather gets her water and tissues.</p><p>"A little over seven weeks," she says slowly, as shocked as Heather, who sets down a tissue box and hands her a glass of water. She smiles and sits down next to her.</p><p>"Well, at least we know that you're not dying. No drinking, okay? We should schedule an appointment soon, just to make sure everything is going smoothly."</p><p>A look of fear and sadness crosses Veronica's face. "When I was drinking, and I had a cigarette the other-"</p><p>"I don't think you've done it enough for it to be harmful, but no more drinking yourself to sleep, Alright?" Heather takes her hand, her thumb rubbing gentle circles on her warm skin.</p><p>"Yeah, Okay..."</p><p>She nudges her. "What is it?"</p><p>"What are people going to think?"</p><p>"Who cares-"</p><p>"The whole high school is going to think that I'm a slut!" Veronica starts to cry again, already forming mental scenes of the torment Westerburg will give her.</p><p>"Ronnie, calm down. Maybe your parents will let you do homeschooling for the rest of the year. And it's already November... there's not much of high school left, and then you'll never have to see anyone again."</p><p>There's no hiding the fact that slut sharing is almost a guarantee, especially with teen pregnancy. But maybe Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer will be generous enough to let her finish the year at home after realizing the pain and fear the October calamity has caused their daughter.</p><p>"It's too much." She lets out an exasperated sigh. "Too much to do." She puts a hand on her stomach. "Not like I have much of a choice."</p><p>Heather nods. "Right. You can't do anything about being pregnant, but you can do as much as you can to make it easier for yourself and prepare. I can call the hospital right now if you'd like."</p><p>"You don't have to-"</p><p>"It will get it out of the way," Mac says, already standing up and walking over to the phone and flipping through a notepad next to it. She dials and holds it up to her ear, Veronica sitting on the edge of the couch with wide eyes.</p><p>"Hi. I'd like to schedule an appointment for... my daughter..." she twirls the cord of the phone around her finger. "My name? Madonna. My daughter's pregnant." She listens for a long minute, her expression going bored. She makes faces at Veronica, scrunching up her nose and squinting her eyes when the lady on the other end says something boring. Veronica tries to keep her laughter quiet, her cheeks red.</p><p>"Okay. Yeah, I think that will work. Hold on." She puts the phone down and writes a date on the notepad, showing it to Veronica, who nods. "Yeah, that will work. Thank you," she finishes in a voice so fake Veronica thinks she might actually have a heart attack from laughter.</p><p>Heather puts the phone down and sits down next to her again.</p><p>"Thank you," Veronica says, her composure almost fully regained. "Jesus Christ, do I actually have to go?"</p><p>"Yes, Ronnie."</p><p>Chandler appears in front of them, her lips curled in a smirk. "More than a stomach bug, huh? I called it, Sawyer."</p><p>This earns an eye roll. "Oh, shut up."</p><p>Heather's face seems to fall. "Huh? I didn't.."</p><p>"Not you," Veronica quickly says. "Sorry, I uh... nothing. Nevermind." Although concerned, McNamara lets the subject drop.</p><p>"So... if you aren't doing anything tonight, maybe we could have a sleepover? If you don't mind driving me to school tomorrow-"</p><p>Veronica is already digging through the videos she rented last night.</p><p>***</p><p>When the two get to school the next morning, they're both armed with coffee. After they made the mistake of staying up until three in the morning talking and playing games with a side dish of drinking, (Heather only let Veronica have one beer), since Veronica's parents weren't home until much later that night, coffee is their only hope for staying awake through classes.</p><p>"My head hurts," McNamara groans as they walk up to the hallway doors. Veronica opens it and they both step inside.</p><p>"My whole body hurts and I've thrown up three times. Suck it up."</p><p>"I told you not to-"</p><p>"Not because of the beer!" Veronica bursts into laughter from a combination of hormones and that it's going to be weird to talk about the pregnancy when they can't say it outright. She dreads the day when the bump becomes noticeable.</p><p>They stand next to their lockers, gathering books as a freckle-faced girl jogs up to them with a clipboard.</p><p>"Hi, girls!"</p><p>"Hi," Heather says as she closes her locker and turns around.</p><p>"After Duke's tragedy-" it takes everything in Veronica not to roll her eyes. "We have a spot open in the Yearbook committee. Several, actually. I was hoping that one of you would want to do it?" She hands over the clipboard, which is filled with names. Two girls along with Duke's names are crossed out. "By the way, I'm Lindsey."</p><p>"I'm busy with cheerleading," Heather explains. "I don't know if I'd have time. Ronnie?"</p><p>"I'm tutoring Heather, and I have so much to do for college, and-" And I have a baby on the way, she thinks.</p><p>"No worries. I'll find someone else," Linsey smiles, tucking a strand of orange hair behind her hair. Heather is still staring at the clipboard and her brow furrows as she stares at one of the names.</p><p>"I know that Duke... you know. And Rose and Stephanie had to quit... did Betty Finn quit too? Her name is crossed off." She hands the clipboard back to Lindsey and watches the color drain out of her face. She adjusts her glasses, small and round, the kind that Heather always sees old women wear.</p><p>Veronica is now looking at her too, Betty's name grasping her attention. She remembers hearing the name as she walked inside, groups of people walking by, and mumbling about her family.</p><p>"Uh..." Lindsey looks at them over the rims of her glasses. "You haven't heard?"</p><p>"No," Veronica says, beginning to get nervous. She swallows a growing lump in her throat, and for some reason has an urge to grab Heather's hand. "We haven't."</p><p>"She uh... she won't be attending anymore..."</p><p>"Why?" Heather demands. "Did she quit?"</p><p>Now Lindsey meets her eye. "No," she says. "She killed herself."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Fourteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Did she shoot herself?" Heather blurts the question as Veronica stands frozen and Lindsey gulps.</p><p>"N-no. I heard she hung herself." She tucks the clipboard under her arm and gives them a tight smile. "I must be going." When she runs off, Veronica thinks she may faint.</p><p>"Jesus frickin' Christ," Heather mutters before seeing her staring at nothing in particular, blinking on occasion. "Ronnie? You okay?" She puts her hand on her shoulder as she jumps a bit, startled.</p><p>"Y-Yeah."</p><p>"You sure? I've never seen you this interested in a..." she leans over to pinpoint what Veronica subconsciously stared at during her shock-induced trance. "...health poster," she finishes.</p><p>"I'm fine. We should get to class."</p><p>Heather doesn't press it and follows her wordlessly.</p><p>***<br/>"I can drive. You're..." Heather trails off and opens the door on the driver's side.</p><p>"I'm what?" Veronica raises an eyebrow. "Pregnant?"</p><p>"Well, yes, but I meant... shocked and... just let me drive." She slides in and starts the car, turning to her friend before pulling out of the parking lot. "Let's go get food, you didn't eat lunch. What do you feel like?"</p><p>"I'm not hungry."</p><p>"You didn't eat breakfast, only coffee. And you kept zoning out at lunch..."</p><p>It was hard for the students to get away from the talk of Betty Finn, with everyone starting rumors and teachers planning tributes and yearbook pages and suicide prevention clubs. Veronica and Heather sat at a lunch table across from Martha, who ranted about never knowing anything was wrong.</p><p>"She was shy, sure. And she didn't have many friends as a kid. People called her a nerd, but she was always so sweet. Her parents divorced when she was younger-"</p><p>"Eight," Veronica said, the emptiness still in her eyes. "When she was eight."</p><p>It's the only thing she said the entire lunch period.</p><p>"Just... whatever you want," she mumbles now, slumping against the side of the car as Heather drives. She doesn't try to make her talk, knowing that she won't until she's ready. Though she grows concerned when she zones out with tears leaving trails down her cheeks and doesn't acknowledge them.</p><p>"We're here," Mac says with a cheerful smile, parking in front of a diner. Hope this is okay." Maybe if I'm happy, she thinks, she'll be happy too. Or at least happier.</p><p>They walk inside and seat themselves at a counter similar to a bar. Teenagers chatter around them, sitting in pairs and groups of four at booths and cafe tables. Couples on dates, friends celebrating passing a test or a birthday or a driver's license. It makes Veronica want to cry.</p><p>Instead, she rips a napkin into strips and then into smaller pieces as she thinks about it all. There's a growing human being inside of her. An entire human. Duke's dead. Betty's dead. JD's dead. His dad is dead. Duke's dead. Betty's dead-</p><p>"Ronnie?" She feels a warm weight on top of her hand and looks over to see a blonde girl giving her a concerned smile.</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>What if something goes wrong with the pregnancy? She doesn't think she can handle any more death, let alone her own child. Dammit. The baby is the reason she has to keep living. Death sounds better than a loveless life, and not wanting to fall ensnared in another trap of pain and violence, love is what she plans on avoiding for the rest of it.</p><p>But now she can't.</p><p>The blonde girl's voice brings her back. "...what do you want to eat?"</p><p>"Water," she manages to croak out, her mouth and throat as dry as Death Valley in the summer.</p><p>"To eat, Ronnie. There's water in front of you." She nods at the cups of water someone had set in front of them without Veronica realizing.</p><p>"Oh." She takes a small sip, but shaking hands prevent her from conquering the desert in her mouth completely. "Fries, I guess."</p><p>"How about a burger too?"</p><p>"Yeah, sure." She rocks back and forth, her eyes wide with either fear or shock.</p><p>Heather orders and then turns to her again. "You're scaring me!"</p><p>"Hmm? S-Sorry." Veronica stops rocking.</p><p>"So, you nervous about the appointment coming up?"</p><p>She shrugs. "Should I be? I just hope everything is... good." She subconsciously rests a hand on her stomach.</p><p>"No, it's good if you're not. And I have a good feeling, I'm sure everything's great." Heather gives her a smile that she prays is reassuring. A waiter sets their food in front of them, and after a few minutes of silent eating, Veronica catches the pity glances Heather sends her every five seconds.</p><p>"You want me to talk about Betty, don't you?"</p><p>"Only if you want to."</p><p>Veronica sighs through parted lips. "What do you want to know?"</p><p>"I mean... I know that you've known each other for years, I want to know if you're okay."</p><p>"Yeah, I'm great! It's not like I abandoned her to join the Heathers and then began to become friends again only for her to wind up dead. It doesn't make sense!" Veronica finally shouts the truth, her forehead scrunched up in pain. "I'm supposed to notice things like that, Heather. Why didn't I know?"</p><p>Heather puts a hand on her shoulder, desperate for her not to blame herself. Why Betty Finn did it is beyond her, it's beyond everyone. Veronica has her suspicions but prays they aren't true. </p><p>"She hid it, and that's not your fault. You can't always tell when someone's thinking about it, we know that from Duke." She takes her hand, causing her to look up. The hurt is strong enough that Heather can feel it as if it's radiating off of her. They eat in silence for the remainder of their lunch other than occasional snippets of memories Veronica will provide about her and Betty when she feels like it.</p><p>"I don't get it," she says as Heather throws cash on the table and slides off of her chair. "I just don't get it!" Close to tears, she mumbles that she's going to get in the car and runs out. She digs through the glovebox and then her bag but fails to find what she thinks she needs.</p><p>"Crap! Heather, where are my cigarettes?" She turns to the girl sliding into the driver's seat. </p><p>"Dunno..." </p><p>McNamara hates secrets. It feels wrong to be keeping things from someone who's let her in on so much, but the fear of what she did causing an outburst and ending with tears is enough to keep her quiet. Little does she know that Veronica knows her tells: avoiding eye contact and chewing her lip. She too remains silent, too tired to argue with her or cry. </p><p>"I think I'm going to tell my parents this week," she says as they pull up to Mac's house and they both get out. </p><p>Heather gives her an encouraging nod and then a hug. "Good luck."</p><p>"I'll need it." They hold each other at arm's length. "And thank you, Mac." McNamara knows she's talking about more than lunch. </p><p>"Of course. I'm sorry about Betty..."</p><p>"Just one more funeral to go to, " Veronica says with a light laugh. She has to laugh about it, scribble sarcasm about the actual tragedy in her diary and make jokes that her mom would slap her for. It's the only way she knows to handle it, letting it sink in at its own pace while she acts okay. This has to be the end. She can't handle anything else. </p><p>"I'll see you at school. Call if you need anything." Mac hugs her again before disappearing inside. </p><p>***</p><p>Dear Diary, </p><p>Betty Finn killed herself. Apparently everyone is worried about me. All the suicides are making my parents crazy, and I don't think I can live with a shorter curfew. I've known Betty since kindergarten. I had to sit next to her, and I was scared she wouldn't like me. But we became best friends. I don't understand and now I never will. I don't think I'll be able to ever go to her room again. </p><p>I think I'll tell my parents this week, before my appointment. I'm debating whether I should call and reschedule. The more I think about having a baby, the bigger the problem seems. How am I supposed to go to school? What if I get kicked out? Then I wouldn't be able to pay for school. Or anything. </p><p>Duke's funeral is tomorrow. I don't know when Betty's is. All my friends are dead or dying, and I'm terrified that I'll go to school and someone new will have been found dead the night before. </p><p>I hope this is the end. </p><p>- V. S</p><p>Veronica believes this is the end of the death train. The end of the war. After this, she'll drag herself through the day and focus on her grades and her baby. The war at Westerburg is close to over, yes. </p><p>But the battles of her secrets and her past, the things she's buried, are only hidden. When they're uncovered, she'll have another myriad of problems. </p><p>A myriad of problems she hasn't even reached the beginning of.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Fifteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Today is the day, Veronica decides. The day she'll tell her parents that there's been a human growing inside of her for over seven weeks.</p><p>It's also the day of Duke's funeral, which means they'll be a bit nicer and understanding than any other day. Hopefully.</p><p>Post awakening, her usual morning sickness has another layer of nausea as the effect of the upcoming events. She sits on the cold bathroom floor panting for almost twenty minutes, unsure if she can stand up without her stomaching lurching.</p><p>Nerves.</p><p>Nerves about the funeral even more than the baby. Being a Heather meant she was considered one of Duke's best friends. Will they expect her to say anything? Will anyone talk to her? Blame her? She braces herself for it to look like Chandler's as she applies minimal makeup and throws on a dress.</p><p>"Heather?" She says out loud, looking over her shoulder. Chandler doesn't appear. Finishing her makeup, she skips breakfast knowing she'll regret it later and gets in the car.</p><p>They have the day off of school but attending the funeral apparently counts as attendance. She wonders how many people are actually going to show.</p><p>Parking in front of the building, she spots a girl with blonde curly hair and walks over to her, tapping her on the shoulder. She's not next to anybody but mumbles to herself until turning to see Veronica.</p><p>"Hey-" She's tackled in a hug, startled by the sudden embrace before hugging her back.</p><p>"Thank god you came." They break apart but remain less than a foot apart. "I didn't know if you were coming, and I didn't want to go in alone-"</p><p>"I wouldn't make you go in alone. You ready?"</p><p>Heather nods, swallowing and struggling to relax her shoulders. She presses her lips into a tight line and follows Veronica inside. They are greeted by their P.E coach at the entrance and spot several classmates in a group by another door. Suddenly, they're back at Chandler's funeral.</p><p>"Ronnie-" Warm skin connects with her shaking hand. She holds onto Veronica in hope to calm her anxiety as they take a seat and wait for everyone else to sit down. Heather tries not to look at the casket upfront (fortunately, a closed one) and studies her nails instead. The sound of talking dies down as a man stands in front of everyone, waiting for silence before beginning to talk. She shifts her position and sits up straighter, listening to the prayer but letting her mind wander. </p><p>Heather Duke was a bitch. But there were times when Heather doubted that. In junior year, there was a time when they hung out, just the two of them, and talked about how bossy Chandler could be. Mac held her hair back when Chandler pressured her into puking her guts out, and she stayed up talking to her at 2 AM as Chandler slept next to them and Duke cried her eyes out into a pillow.</p><p>Blind is what she had been. Blind to the jealously that lied between them because of their positions. Duke knew she was nothing more than something to use. That fact hung heavy, looming over her and tearing her apart. She needed a real friend, but the jealousy prevented her and Mac from having that.</p><p>Heather bows her head to pray with everyone else, Veronica's hand still holding hers. </p><p>If she'd known what was going to happen she wouldn't have let Chandler come between them. What would they have had if Duke continued to be the shy, bookwormish girl she'd been when she was younger? Maybe the things she did were cruel, but she didn't deserve to die.</p><p>Duke will never know what job she'd pursue if she'd stayed alive, or if she'd marry or even date. She won't learn what love is like or know cities past Sherwood. She'll never have a chance to rebuild her friendship with Mac or Ronnie.</p><p>McNamara lets tears slide down her cheeks but holds back the sobs threatening to escape her burning throat. The price of Duke's greed results in a life of regret and guilt for Mac. The group finishes praying and seats themselves, people beginning to volunteer to share moments with Heather.</p><p>Veronica throws Mac a concerned look. A million thoughts run through her mind as well. She can tell that the service is coming to an end and beginning to panic. Maybe she won't tell her parents today after all. She's shaken from her thoughts by someone falling- leaning- against her. When she turns around, a sobbing Mac collapses on her chest, her tears wetting the front of her shirt.</p><p>"Heather, breathe." She puts an arm around her, smoothing her hair down with her fingers. Touch starved, Heather curls up smaller and buries her face in her shirt. Her sobs and hiccups make her whole body tremble. She wants to disappear, whispers and giggles surrounding her as the man announces that there's food in the other room and people begin to stand. She finally lifts her head up, her eyes stinging and cheek slick with tears. Pulling away from Veronica, she stands and runs into a bathroom. People look up as she runs past them before returning to mumbling amongst themselves.</p><p>As she splashes water on her face, mentally cursing at herself for breaking down, the door swings open and a girl walks in. She approaches Mac with a hand on her hip, rolling her eyes.</p><p>"Can I help you?"</p><p>"Yeah, help us all and stop," she snaps. Mac turns around, her forehead wrinkled with lines of confusion. "Stop with the fake tears. We all know that you're doing it for attention." She says it in a soft but aggressive tone, one that tempts Mac to cry harder. She takes a step closer.</p><p>"Is it true? That Duke killed herself because you embarrassed her and you guys had a fight?"</p><p>"She embarrassed herself! And no,-"</p><p>"Don't talk to me like that. You don't have power over us, stop acting like it." She stares at her so intensely that Heather gulps and shifts her stance. The other girl's black hair looks like oil dripping down her back. Her eyes narrow as she shoves Mac backward and then turns to leave, only to turn back around. "Your girlfriend is worried about you, by the way." The second the door closes behind her, Mac slides down to the floor.</p><p>She can't walk back out. Everyone will be making fun of her or laughing at her behind her back. She gave up on trying to fix her makeup, black mascara smudged around her eyes and lipstick cracked and faded.</p><p>I'd be laughing too.</p><p>The door opens again, and Mac buries her face in her knees.</p><p>"Heather?"</p><p>"Go away," she mutters, too embarrassed to look up. Footsteps click against the tile as someone gets closer. She feels something press against her, somebody.</p><p>"It's me. What happened?"</p><p>She lifts her head up enough to see Veronica giving her a concerned and encouraging smile.</p><p>"Nothing. You should stop talking to me, everyone thinks we're dating."</p><p>Veronica crosses her arms. "And why should we care what they're saying? I love talking to you, and I'm not losing one of my only friends because of a rumor."</p><p>Heather buries her face in her knees again, but this time it's to hide her blushing.</p><p>"Let's get you some food, Macaroon." She pulls her to her feet, unfazed when Mac throws her arms around her.</p><p>"Was it my fault that she killed herself? Because of what I-"</p><p>Veronica pulls away and holds her at arm's length. "No. It was her decision, Heather. It isn't your fault."</p><p>Mac nods and allows her to lead her out of the bathroom. People stare as they make their way into a bigger room with piano music and a table of food. "Get yourself something to eat, I'll find us a seat." She gives her arm a gentle squeeze before walking away.</p><p>Taking her time getting food, Mac also uses this time to gather herself. It takes several deep breaths to get the heat out of her cheeks. Veronica's seen her at her worst before, but it still makes her want to die knowing that she saw her crying on a bathroom floor. She said she loved talking to her... that doesn't mean anything, does it?</p><p>No. Stop.</p><p>Why does she want to pull her closer every time she takes her hand or touches her? She blames loneliness. But does that explain the blushing or the...feeling?</p><p>She pushes the thoughts from her mind and sits down next to Veronica, setting a plate in front of them. "I got you cookies because you need to eat something."</p><p>"Thanks." Veronica gives her one of those smiles that's makes it look like she's smirking, revealing the dimple on the left corner of her mouth. Mac looks away and tries not to melt. "So. I might tell my parents today."</p><p>Heather nods. "I hope it goes well."</p><p>"Me too." They eat in silence for several minutes before she speaks again. "Heather?"</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Would you uh..." she starts chewing on her bottom lip, glancing at her and then at the table.</p><p>"What is it...?"</p><p>"I don't want to put you in an uncomfortable position, but I don't think I can do this alone-"</p><p>Heather puts her hand on top of hers. "I'll always be here for you-" heat rises in her cheeks when their skin connects. "No matter what happens." The feeling is back, an invisible force that seems to pull her closer, her heartbeat going crazy.   It's a yearning to know everything about her and an admiration of everything she does know about the girl in front of her.</p><p>Veronica gives her that damn smile again. "Thanks, Mac. Would you be okay if you were with me... when I told them? I just think that they're less likely to get mad if-"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>She gets another smile and then arms around her neck, a body against hers.</p><p>Jesus Christ, we're close.</p><p>When Veronica pulls away, teary-eyed, she starts talking, her words coming out in bursts at lightning speed. Mac feels hypnotized by the way her lips are moving, light pink and curling up into a smile every time she says something she's excited about.</p><p>"Uh, Macaroni? You okay?"</p><p>"Mhmm. Go on."</p><p>Veronica raises an eyebrow, her cheeks light pink. "Why are you staring at me?"</p><p>Her words snap Heather back into the moment. She takes a bite of a sandwich and shrugs.</p><p>"Well, I think we can leave soon. I should probably say something to Duke's parents, but what am I supposed to say? I know I should have said something back there but I panicked. Mac!"</p><p>"Hmmm?" She blinks as Veronica laughs.</p><p>"What is going on with you? You keep zoning out."</p><p>"I'm listening."</p><p>She rolls her eyes. "Sure you are. Anyways, I asked if you needed a ride home? After I tell them?" Her fingers fumble with the edge of the tablecloth as she waits for an answer.</p><p>Heather nods. "Sure, my dad dropped me off so I planned on walking."</p><p>"No way, I think it's about to rain."</p><p>Now it's Heather's turn to roll her eyes. "It's not going to kill me, but okay, mom." She laughs before a harsh realization sends a pang of hurt running through her. "Actually, you probably care more than my mom."</p><p>Veronica gives her another one of those pity-and-curiosity-at-the-same-time looks, her lips pressed into a tight line. "How's... everything?"</p><p>Mac, not used to talking about her home life, fishes for the right words in the hurricane of insults and buried anger at her mom. "Uh-"</p><p>"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I get it if you don't want to tell me," Ronnie adds.</p><p>Heather would probably tell her what her social security number is if she wanted to know.</p><p>"No, it's fine. She's passed out by the time I get home, but she still tries to make dinner. I have to take over so that she doesn't cut a finger off." She shakes her head.</p><p>"Things still tense between her and your dad?"</p><p>"Yeah. I know I shouldn't say this, but divorce is inevitable by now. I'm supposed to have hope, right? That there's a magic solution or something can fix it... but I don't."</p><p>Veronica thinks for a long minute before saying, "I think, if things are bad, let them be bad. Believing that everything can be fixed when it's beyond that will only disappoint you in the end. Sometimes you have to let it work itself out." She nudges her. "Divorce isn't always a bad thing, and maybe you'll find that they're different when they're not around each other."</p><p>"I guess. But I'm scared that..." McNamara looks around to make sure no one has somehow moved closer without them noticing. "If they do divorce, my mom will only get worse. I should hate it when they fight, but she needs someone to make her stop before she kills herself, whether they have to scream or..." she blots at her eyes with a napkin.</p><p>"Look, you-"</p><p>"And then she gets mad at me! For trying to help! I can't get her to stop, and I started dumping out bottles of wine, she started threatening me. I don't care if she hits me, I want her to stop! She's ruining our family and she doesn't even realize it." A dry sob escapes her throat before Veronica takes one of her shaking hands, looking at her with concern-no, not concern- fear.</p><p>"What would she threaten you with...?"</p><p>She gets a mere shrug.</p><p>"Mac."</p><p>More tears run down her face. "Nothing... she'll say that one of these times she's going to backhand me or slap me or..."</p><p>"Or what?" Veronica asks in a gentler tone.</p><p>"I shouldn't have said anything-" she jumps to feet but pulled back by her arm.</p><p>"No, it's okay. I won't tell anyone, Alright? But you have to stop blaming yourself for a mess that they're making."</p><p>Mac snorts. "Easier said than done."</p><p>Believe me, Ronnie thinks. I know. They look at each other for a long moment, Heather sniffling and occasionally wiping her eyes.</p><p>"Do you blame yourself?" She asks, her voice so quiet Veronica barely hears it. "For what happened in October?"</p><p>"I...its complicated. I'm going to get the car warmed up." She jogs off to avoid having to answer further.</p><p>She doesn't have to think about it. It isn't complicated, it's yes. But thinking about it is no.</p><p>As she starts driving home with Mac in the passenger seat, her thoughts start up again. I have to tell them. Jesus, I have to tell them that I'm pregnant at seventeen freakin' years old.</p><p>"Well," she says when they're in her driveway. "I guess it's time to ruin my life. But I guess I've already done that, this is just another dent."</p><p>"If they kick you out, you could always live with me. Although I don't think that will be much better."</p><p>"Ha!"</p><p>"Hey, maybe it will go well," Mac points out. "And they'll be as happy as I am."</p><p>Veronica eyes her. "You're happy about it?" But her tone isn't angry, only questioning.</p><p>"I mean... it's a miniature you. It can't be that bad, and with all this death, maybe some life will be good."</p><p>"Yeah. Thanks."</p><p>"You ready?"</p><p>"Nope. But let's go."</p><p>It takes everything in Veronica to not run out of Sherwood and never look back. It takes everything in Heather not to kiss her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Sixteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Could you guys sit down?" Veronica swallows the lump in her throat, sick to her stomach. Her parents exchange glances and then seat themselves at the kitchen table with their daughter and Heather holding hands across from them.</p><p>"Veronica?"</p><p>She looks up at her father and then at her lap, where her eyes stay for the last few seconds.</p><p>"Uh... I need to tell you guys something, and I don't know how you'll react... but whatever happens, don't blame Mac, and don't blame-"</p><p>"What is it, Veronica?" Her mother says impatiently.</p><p>Heather squeezes her hand under the table. Veronica squeezes back, already close to tears. "I'm pregnant."</p><p>She says it so bluntly that at first her parents think she's joking. When Veronica starts sobbing, they go stone-faced.</p><p>"Wait, Veronica Sawyer-"</p><p>"I'm over seven weeks, probably almost eight. I'm sorry, I didn't think-"</p><p>"Who's is it?" Mrs. Sawyer asks, her voice so low that it takes the rest of them by surprise.</p><p>"JD's," Heather answers for her. She looks to Ronnie for confirmation. She nods, squeezing her hand.</p><p>Both of her parents are frozen, her dad close to having a heart attack and mom with a thousand thoughts running through her mind.</p><p>"I get it if you don't want me to stay here-" it's one of the most painful things she's ever said, unable to meet her mother's eye because she can't handle the disappointment.</p><p>"What? Veronica, it's just a lot to..." Mr. Sawyer trails off. His face is so pale that Heather debates whether she should offer him water or not. If he weren't sitting down, he'd surely pass out.</p><p>"I'm sorry. I have an appointment in two days for my first prenatal-"</p><p>"Ronnie... do you know what it takes to raise a baby? You do understand that this limits your options for further education, jobs-"</p><p>"I know. I was hoping you guys could help me while I finished college, and then I'll-"</p><p>"Do you know how financially draining it is? Where do you plan on getting enough money to support yourself after college? It's going to be harder to get a job when you have an infant, not to mention when you're doing it alone-"</p><p>"I get it!" Tears spill over, and this time she doesn't bother to wipe them away as she meets her mom's eye. "I'm not ready to be a mom, and I wasn't supposed to be one, but now I don't have a choice, so instead of telling me why it's horrible can you please help me make a plan for the rest of my life now that I only have nine months to remake it?!" She didn't mean to yell, but inner despair is bound to seep through at some point.</p><p>Everyone is silent. The only noises are Veronica's sniffles and whimpers and Her parent's deep breathes.</p><p>"Have you even thought about other options?" Mrs. Sawyer finally speaks. Veronica is quick to end her suggestion.</p><p>"No. By the time I have the baby I'll be 18, and I am not getting an abortion."</p><p>Her mother blinks, dazed. "That's not what I was talking about. There are tons of families that would love to have a baby and can't-"</p><p>"No! I'm keeping it." She looks from her mom to her dad, who is studying the table. "And things are going to change. A lot of things are going to have to change."</p><p>"It's a lot to take in, Veronica. And there's a lot to do..." Mrs. Sawyer blinks back tears of shock and disappointment.</p><p>"I know. And I'm sorry."</p><p>"Don't be."</p><p>Now she looks up. "What?"</p><p>Mrs. Sawyer sighs, meeting her husband's eye before looking to her daughter. "You're right. You're going to have a baby no matter what we say, and you only have a few months to figure things out." She puts her hand on top of Veronica's, surprising her enough to make her jump back a bit. "And this isn't... convenient at your age, but it's going to happen." Her face twists in fear, a realization. She removes her hand from Veronica's and rubs her temple.</p><p>"We have a lot to discuss," Mr. Sawyer says, standing. Heather braces herself, still half expecting him to topple over. Veronica's mother gets to her feet as well. They walk into the bedroom and close the door, leaving Veronica staring into space with tears dripping from her chin.</p><p>"I'm going to get you some water, Okay?" Heather squeezes her hand, which went limp in hers about halfway through the conversation. She doesn't get a response and walks over to the cabinets. "You did good, Ronnie. The hardest part's over."</p><p>She sets water down in front of her and then grabs several tissues from the bathroom, bringing them back out and sitting down next to Veronica again. She's still staring straight ahead, but one hand is around the cup of water and the other is laying on the table. Mac hands her a tissue.</p><p>"It could have gone worse. And you didn't get kicked out-"</p><p>"Can I still live with you? I think they hate me." She lays her head on the table, letting her eyes close as Mac rubs her back.</p><p>"My house isn't any better right now, but I'll be with you as much as I can, and when my mom isn't home-"</p><p>"Thank you."</p><p>Heather smiles. "Of course." The sound of arguing filters through from Veronica's parent's bedroom, causing her to roll her eyes and snuggle closer to Mac.</p><p>"How am I going to do this? Financially and mentally- I'm a mess myself!"</p><p>"Calm down," Heather says, taking her hand again. "You'll figure it out. And I can help financially-"</p><p>"No. No, Mac. You've done too much"</p><p>Heather puts a finger over her lips, and she glares but falls silent. "Shush. I can help, it's not like we're poor. And when I'm living with just my dad we'll have more because we won't have to pay for my mother." Her hand flies to her mouth as soon as the words leave it. "Oh, god! I'm a horrible daughter-"</p><p>"You're allowed to be mad at her. No one blames you for wanting to be with someone who takes better care of you."</p><p>"Yeah, still."</p><p>Veronica tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and for a second Mac thinks she might kiss her. When she doesn't, she breaks off and gets to her feet.</p><p>"I should probably get going-"</p><p>"Mac."</p><p>She looks up. "Yeah?"</p><p>"Stay."</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Seventeen (Can't We Be Seventeeeeeeen)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Veronica Sawyer?"</p><p>"Uh, Yeah." Veronica stands and follows a nurse into a smaller room. She lays down and waits, wanting to get this over with. The nurse (doctor, she doesn't know what she is exactly) is female, making her a bit more comfortable.</p><p>"First time?"</p><p>"Y-Yeah."</p><p>She turns and gives Veronica what she thinks is a reassuring smile. "Well, you have nothing to be nervous about. We're going to do a normal checkup first and then go through some questions about the baby, Alright?"</p><p>It turns out there are a lot of questions. About everything. Some of which, her mom answers for her. She doesn't admit she's been drinking or smoking, knowing that it won't go over well and could result in a search of her bedroom.</p><p>She thinks about the gun.</p><p>Her mom has questions of her own, and Veronica concludes that this is the longest doctor's appointment she's ever been to when her mom finishes with the list.</p><p>"Would you like the listen to the heartbeat?"</p><p>Veronica nods, seeing her mom's encouraging smile. No one speaks as she listens, watching her face and waiting for a reaction.</p><p>A warm feeling overcomes her, a different type of love than she's felt with her own family or any boy. It's innocence, something violence and pain took from her at such a young age she didn't think she'd ever feel it again. But inside of her is more than just a baby, it's a fresh start.</p><p>Sherwood, Ohio doesn't seem to like innocence. She decides she'll take herself and the baby out of here as soon as she can.</p><p>She exits the room with one hand on her stomach and a smile on her face. Maybe Mac was right about the hardest part being over.</p><p>As she walks through the waiting room with her mom, a blonde in a cheerleading uniform runs up and throws her arms around her. Used to it by now, Veronica chuckles and hugs her back.</p><p>"How'd it go?"</p><p>"Fine. What are you doing here?"</p><p>"I thought maybe we could do something together after your appointment. I came here from practice," Heather explains, motioning to her outfit. "I was going to bring cupcakes or something-"</p><p>Veronica laughs. "You don't need to do that. What were you thinking about doing?"</p><p>"I dunno. We could go see a movie and shop like we used to."</p><p>"Could you give us a ride to the mall?" Veronica turns to her mom, who nods and leads them out of the building.</p><p>***</p><p>When they arrive at the mall, Heather realizes just how much it sounds and probably looks like they're on a date. She smiles and looks over at Veronica, who is staring at the movie in front of them, her head tilted to the right and a smile tugging at her lips at certain moments. She light from the screen illuminates her face, making it look like she sits under the spotlight. Heather bites her lip and looks away.</p><p>When the movie ends, they walk out of the theater and into the mall.</p><p>"Want to browse and maybe get something to eat?"</p><p>"Sounds good."</p><p>Mac nudges her. "Have you thought about baby names yet?"</p><p>"Nope. I've spent every day since finding out I was pregnant panicking over the fact that I'm pregnant. Now I actually have to get my life together."</p><p>She cracks a smile. "You'll do great." She resists the temptation to grab her hand and folds her own in front of her instead.</p><p>"It's too much to think about. The baby, getting out of Sherwood... college, if that's still possible." They stop and start flipping through shirts on one of the stands next to a fountain. "I don't even know if I'll be able to get out of bed tomorrow."</p><p>McNamara assumes she's talking about the pregnancy, not the trauma or the memories. In truth, it's a combination of all of it. Veronica worries that being sad all the time will affect the baby, that something horrible will happen merely because of her emotions.</p><p>Being a human being can suck when you have to worry about another human at the same time.</p><p>"Do you like that?" Mac gestures to the shirt that she's holding.</p><p>"Nah." Veronica crinkles her nose and puts it back. Suddenly, Mac gets an idea, her eyes lighting up as she grabs her wrist and drags her into a different store.</p><p>"We're going to look at prom dresses. And the Winter Dance is coming up- and Valentine's Day- come on!"</p><p>Veronica follows an enthusiastic Mac, who is already holding dresses up to her.</p><p>"Do you like this? It brings out your eyes. What color were you thinking? Blue? They also have-"</p><p>"Heather."</p><p>"Yeah? Not the one? Okay, well-" she puts a dress back on the rack and takes three more. "There are ones that aren't as long if that's the problem. Also, one strap or two? I was envisioning a two-strap with-"</p><p>"Heather!" Veronica cuts her off and puts the dress she was holding up to her back. "You don't need to... it's a waste of time. I'll help you find something, but you don't need to look for me."</p><p>Heather crosses her arms. "If this is about prices, stop obsessing over money. I'll pay. But I want this to be special for you." She turns back to the dresses and runs her hand over the fabric on one of them, silk slipping through her fingers. "Now, tell me what you like."</p><p>"You don't get it."</p><p>"I do. You don't like it when people do nice things for you because you feel like a burden and JD make you feel like-"</p><p>"No! Heather, listen to me!"</p><p>She turns Veronica. "I am."</p><p>"You're not!' Taking a deep breath, she finally spits out the truth. "It's a waste of time because I'm not going."</p><p>Silence. Then Mac laughs. "But it's your senior prom-"</p><p>"And I'll remember that night for the rest of my life and regret it if I don't go?! I know! But after everything that's happened this year, the last thing I want is to remember!"</p><p>Heather takes a step towards her. "Sorry, I didn't-"</p><p>"It's fine."</p><p>She mentally curses herself for not realizing that just like the October incident and JD, prom would be a touchy subject. She thought prom would be a happy moment for her, something to look forward to after all the pain, but she was wrong.</p><p>If she's completely honest with herself, she hoped that Veronica would go with her. But she knows better than to bring it up. The same goes for Valentine's Day. Especially Valentine's day.</p><p>Mac does the only thing she can think of; she hugs her. Veronica hugs back but not with full effort. They leave the store in silence,  a distance between them that Mac longs to fix. Veronica knows that she's hurting her, but the only solution is to break off what they have and temporarily hurt her more.</p><p>I shouldn't have gotten involved with her.</p><p>Everything good will explode like the bomb in October. Friendships. Relationships. Girls like Mac who will give their everything to someone they care about. It's all a chemical formula to a heartbreak explosion because when you're caught up in the rush someone gives you is when it gets dangerous.</p><p>But Heather knows too much now. Veronica knows that she's trusting her with too much between the baby and the truth about Heather. It seems like a healthy friendship for now, but she wonders how long until Heather realizes how much of a horrible person she is. McNamara is worthy of redemption. Veronica isn't so sure.</p><p>There aren't any happy endings in Sherwood. So why bother with the beginning?</p><p>They sit through a painfully silent lunch of food from the food court and then walk into the parking lot, Veronica thinking about everything so much a headache is blooming in her temples. Mac is oblivious to what's really going on, thinking that she's mad about earlier.</p><p>"Ronnie, I uh..." She pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her purse and holds them out. "I found them in my mom's car." Veronica gives her a weird look before taking them, not thinking through her words enough to detect the lie.</p><p>"Thanks." She lights one and takes a drag before passing it to Mac. "I really should stop."</p><p>Heather passes it back and moves closer to her. "I'm sorry."</p><p>"Don't be. It won't change anything."</p><p>"After this year, I promise that things will be better. You deserve so much better than what's happened this year." She speaks softly, so softly in fact, that it catches Veronica's attention as she steps even closer. "And once you get out of here, you'll be free." </p><p>Wait, am I dreaming? What is going on? Veronica thinks, her mouth hanging open slightly. Mac's thoughts are much different.</p><p>We only have months left to screw things up before we're eighteen and we have to take things seriously. We'll be out of Sherwood, and things will be better. If I'm going to ruin things...</p><p>She takes another step closer, plucking the cigarette from in between Veronica's teeth before leaning in until their lips are pressed together.</p><p>END OF PART 1</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Eighteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'm sorry- Ronnie, Wait!"</p><p>Heather screwed up. She knows that when Veronica takes off running. She follows her back into the mall, people turning to look at them as they push them out of the way. Veronica finds the nearest telephone and dials her mom's number, ready to leave.</p><p>"You can come to pick me up now. Mac already left. Her dad came. Sooner than later, please. What? Yes, everything's fine. People are just... making me uncomfortable and fighting... just come pick me up." She slams the phone down and prays that it won't be faster to walk than to count on her mom to come.</p><p>"Ronnie, can we please talk?" Heather, out of breath, jogs up to her. "Please!"</p><p>She takes off running again to the exit on the other side of the mall. Heather groans. Why would I kiss her?</p><p>No longer going as fast as she can, she follows and throws the door open. Veronica is nowhere in sight.</p><p>She hides behind a car until spotting her mom's and then runs, climbing in before her mother can get a word out.</p><p>Heather stands on the other side of the door, one hand pressed against the glass, watching her get farther away. Because of her.</p><p>She's still holding her cigarette.</p><p>***</p><p>When Veronica gets home, anger takes over. She tries to scribble a diary entry but ends up snapping the pencil in half. She can't say that she doesn't want her. The moment their lips met, she wanted her worse than ever. </p><p>But no one else is going to die. Loving her would be a death wish.</p><p> They could never be real, she decides, with all the mistrust and secrets that would surface when they started something deeper than friendship. And besides, it would only be for a few weeks- or months depending on what happens. Everything remains up in the air until she gets a sigh... unless the recent events that she prays aren't have been what she's looking for. No. Why would-</p><p>Betty Finn's funeral is in two days. Veronica has tried to push it from her mind and bury it with everything else she doesn't want to think about.</p><p>The only thing she wants is a cold beer. And to forget about Mac kissing her. And to forget about the upcoming funeral and that 5 people have died in a senior year alone.</p><p>Three of which she killed.</p><p>She closes her eyes and the floor slides out from under her.</p><p>"....keep it together!"</p><p>"....Our love is god."</p><p>"Five seconds!"</p><p>Two gunshots. Heather falls through a glass table, her tongue blue.</p><p>"The sky's gonna hurt when it falls, you know."</p><p>"...ten high schools and the only thing that's changed is my locker combination!"</p><p>She opens her eyes and slides down to the floor. The anger always seems to be there at the end of the day.</p><p>She ruined her own senior year, but the Heathers and he definitely helped. She looks down at her stomach. He or she will be a reminder, a permanent one of what happened.</p><p>The phone rings, startling her out of her thoughts before they can eat her alive. For that, she's grateful but also scared to answer it.</p><p>"H-hello?"</p><p>"Ronnie! Please-" she slams the phone down before Heather can get another word out, the anxiety causing the motion to be so forceful that the phone almost falls. She finds herself wanting alcohol more than ever.</p><p>***</p><p>"Hey. I'm Veronica Sawyer, I was friends with Chandler. She told me you do fake IDs?"</p><p>The boy in front of her nods from behind the counter. "Yeah, I'm almost off, can you wait 10 minutes?"</p><p>"Sure."</p><p>She paces around the convenience store, eying bags of candy and chips. She can't bring herself to look at the slushie machine, which seems to be watching her and begging for her to let it cause her a panic attack.</p><p>Ten minutes later, she's standing in front of a camera, which whirs and flashes, causing temporary blindness.</p><p>"I'll start as soon as I get home." He motions to the door, leading Veronica out of the staff room and back into the store. She slides a fifty dollar bill across the counter with her number penciled in at the top.</p><p>"Call me when it's done." She turns and walks out the door.</p><p>***</p><p>At six o clock, the phone rings. Veronica answers, mumbling a "Thanks" about a "geometry problem" in case her mom hears.</p><p>"I forgot, I have to grab a book from the library. I'm on the waiting list and there's a line of people who want it, I'll be back for dinner," she calls over her shoulder before running out the door and getting into the car.</p><p>She grabs the ID from a house only 10 minutes from hers, stops by the library to grab a random book, and then pulls over to study it.</p><p>According to the plastic card, her name is Violet Corbett, and she's twenty-one years old. Perfect. </p><p>She shifts her weight from foot to foot, anxious to know if it will work or if the cashier will deny her the case of beer she desperately needs and is willing to get on her knees and beg for. She doesn't, scanning it, glancing at her ID, and then sliding both back to her.</p><p>Veronica parks in the driveway and takes a deep breath. She'll get it in through the window, which she left partway open.</p><p>Mac kissed me.<br/>Betty's dead.<br/>I'm going to have a baby.</p><p>She exhales deeply and leans back, resting her head against the window. Why did she think for even a second that she could handle having a baby? Her mother's words echo in her mind.</p><p>She'll need time. And support. And a will stronger than what she has now. She'll also need money, a plan, and supplies. Then she begins to panic.</p><p>Where did she think she was going to get the money? Will her parents really help her? She's pushing Mac away, meaning she won't be any help anymore. Veronica is on her own. Even if- when- she isn't, the money will still be needed. </p><p>She eyes the glove box, where the fake ID sits. She eyes the beer in the back.</p><p>Then she gets an idea.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Nineteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two Days Later~</p><p>"Vodka and three beers... fifteen dollars." Veronica hands the boy in front of her the drinks and takes a twenty-dollar bill from him. "When's the party?"</p><p>"Tonight around seven. Keep the change, I only have twenty dollar bills." He slides his wallet back into his pocket after putting the alcohol in a backpack that once hung limp and empty from one shoulder. They both look around to make sure no one has come behind the 7/11 they stand next to.</p><p>"I can live with that." Veronica shoves the money in her pocket. "Well, have fun. I'll be at a funeral. What was your name, again?"</p><p>"James. And who died?" He glances at her before scratching his chin, his hand brushing the slight stubble growing. "Sorry, that was-"</p><p>"Other than my will to live? My best friend."</p><p>"Damn. Sorry. Hey, uh, could I have your number?"</p><p>Veronica takes a step closer. "That's not something I give out. Asher from the snack shack, he has it. For business purposes." She says the last part with a small smirk, her eyes still on his green ones.</p><p>"Business, huh?"</p><p>She smacks her lips together. "Yup. And I have to go. Spread the word to those friends that are coming over for the party, will you?"</p><p>"Yeah, okay." There's still a glint in his eye that Veronica can't pinpoint.</p><p>She turns to walk away but turns back around. "Oh, and James? Tell them I also have cigarettes. If they hear it from you, I'll give them a discount."</p><p>***</p><p>Late on the night that she got the ID, the phone rang. Asher had been on the other end, explaining how his friend needed alcohol for a party and now that she has a fake ID maybe she could help. They ended up talking for almost half an hour, Veronica explaining her idea and a bit of the situation.</p><p>The next day she went back there to stock up. It's the same routine every time; getting the drinks and cigarettes, hiding them under clothes and a first aid kit in a box in the car, and then storing them in her closet, dresser, and desk. She gets a discount at the store because Asher hooked up with Chandler once.</p><p>As she drives to the church where the funeral is, the weight in her stomach grows. She pulls over and pukes, rinsing her mouth out with a half-empty water bottle from the car. The review mirror proves that she's already a mess before the funeral has even begun. She pulls up to the church and parks, already regretting wearing a skirt. It's uncomfortable, but not any more than the entire situation is. Will she have to speak? Will people talk to her? Blame her? She checks her makeup a final time and smooths down her hair. Looks have been on the bottom of the priority list, but now she feels obligated to look nice.</p><p>She owes it to Betty.</p><p>Unlike Chandler's, this funeral is more private. A smaller group, and being there counts as absence from school. She wonders if Heather will be here. Part of her is dreading seeing her after ignoring her completely yesterday, walking straight past her in the halls and crumpling up the notes she passed her. Another part knows that she'll need her.</p><p>She gets out of the car and walks up to the doors to see a blonde standing just inside of them. Great. She walks past the small group of people forming and into the bathroom instead. Why is she here? What kind of person am I for thinking that? Why am I even ignoring her? Why did she have to kiss me? Why did Betty kill herself?</p><p>The door opens and someone steps inside. She leans against the sink and looks at Veronica, who grips the edge of it and pants, her eyes brimming with tears.</p><p>"Ignoring me isn't going to take back what happened, you know. I've tried to say that I'm sorry, two hundred times, and I don't know what else to do. Blast a love song outside your window in the middle of the night? Fireworks? I'm sure the cheer squad would help me out."</p><p>When Veronica cracks a smile, she puts a hand on her shoulder.</p><p>"I just- why her, Mac?" Heather pulls her into a hug. "Dammit. I'm already crying and it hasn't even started yet!" They walk out of the bathroom still holding onto each other. Veronica no longer dreads having Mac there, but what is about to happen. A man dressed in a suit hands them each what looks like a pamphlet, with Betty's picture and her birth and death date under it. She scans the small paragraph and shakes her head. </p><p>Not enough. It's not nearly enough. She could have written essays about the time they spent together. Maybe even a novel. As they enter the main room, she surprises Mac by choosing seats farther back. The front ones are for family and close friends. Important people. </p><p>I wasn't important enough to give her a reason to stay, she thinks. If she could, she'd be pressed against the back wall.</p><p>They bow their heads to pray. Heather squeezes her hand as several voices run through her mind. </p><p>"...one of the saddest things is when someone dies, but especially when they die young....you can't take back suicide..." Her mother's voice fades and is replaced with his.</p><p>"...Some people need to die to relieve everyone else of the pain they cause. We're only helping." </p><p>When she opens her eyes, everyone else has already. They sit back down, and Heather rests her head on her shoulder. Veronica allows tears to fall silently but keeps her face blank as she stares ahead. Betty's mother, Rosa, goes up to speak, and she knows that her composure is failing. She grips Mac's hand tighter. She winces but squeezes back. </p><p>Shutting her eyes, she focuses on how soft Mac's hand is and the way her heels pinch her ankles. It takes that and several deep breaths to get her through the speech. Rosa sobbing doesn't help. When she finishes, the sound of applause fills the room. </p><p>Veronica stands. </p><p>She and Heather's hands break apart. The eyes of the people in surrounding rows rest their eyes on her as she makes her way to the front, causing Heather to shift and suck in a breath. No one knows what's about to leave Veronica's mouth. </p><p>Taking the mic, she too shifts, not knowing where to look. Rosa is gripping a handful of her dress, her shaking hands partially hidden by the fabric. She gives her an encouraging nod. </p><p>"I'm Veronica. I knew Betty since first grade. Uh... I didn't have a speech or anything ready-" a few people chuckle from the audience, causing Veronica to let out a nervous laugh as well. "But I owe it to Betty. I know that she wouldn't want us to blame ourselves for what happened, and for some of us that might not be easy-" a sob escapes her throat. "But I know Betty. She was always the first person to help somebody and though she kept to herself, she taught me a lot. She loved to read and bake... and I didn't expect this." She chokes on a sob and hugs her arms to her chest. </p><p>"I never expected this. She never told me, and I wish she had. Then maybe we wouldn't be here. She was on the yearbook committee-" she looks up. "There's an empty spot if anyone wants to join." Sprinkled laughter comes from the group in front of her. "And everyone keeps telling me that anger is a stage of grief, but I'm not angry at Betty. I'm angry at Westerburg High School for not noticing and never doing anything! For Christ's freakin' sake, there have been six suicides this year! Don't you think that something is wrong?!" </p><p>Stunned silence is all she gets in reply. </p><p>"I mean I understand that teenagers have it easier than adults, but that doesn't mean our lives aren't hard. They're hard enough to make six people think that the only way out is death. I guarantee that they don't want to be worshipped, they want things to change so that someone else doesn't go down the same path. I go to school and expect to be told that someone else died. I wince when the damn phone rings!" </p><p>Heather swallows, giving a small nod as they lock eyes for a second. She thinks back to when she found out about Duke, how her body seemed to shut down as air left her lungs. Death is a vacuum that sucks everything out of you. Air, happiness, the will to get out of bed, and sometimes the will to stay alive yourself. </p><p>"I don't think that losing your innocence is only when you get drunk for the first time or have sex, I think that it's the first death. And I mean the first one that makes you physically ill, that ties you to your bed and makes sure you stay there and drowns you in loneliness even when you sit in a room full of people because it doesn't matter how many of them are next to you, the absence of that one dead one is the only thing you can see." She chokes on a rising sob and begins to cough. Someone offers her water but Veronica waves it away.</p><p>"And I'm sorry that I'm a part of the school that killed several of my best friends. I'm sorry to everyone in here but even more so to Betty. I won't forget, and I won't forget her. I hope she knows that." </p><p>Veronica thrusts the mic at a random person and runs out of the room, the door slamming behind her only to be opened again as Heather follows her outside. </p><p>"God, Ronnie! You just burned Westerburg's rep to the ground!" Heather goes to high five her, but her grin fades when she's met with a sobbing Veronica instead. She brings her to the edge of a fountain and makes her sit down before running inside and grabbing a bottle of water and tissues from the table next to the door. Then she jogs back outside and down next to her, holding a water bottle up to her lips for her to take small sips in between wails. </p><p>"I miss her." </p><p>"I know, I know. But she's not in pain, and she'd be so proud of you." She's talking to her like a little kid, but right now it's more soothing than annoying. Veronica eventually calms down, her weeping turning to sniffles and wet cheeks beginning to dry. She curls up next to Mac, her head on her lap as she closes her eyes and listens to the fountain. Heather runs her fingers through her hair. </p><p>"Do you happen to not want to be at your house tonight?" </p><p>McNamara cracks a smile. "How'd you know?" </p><p>"I didn't. I just hoped." Veronica wraps her arms around her waist. "Do you think you could stay with me? We could have a sleepover and try to be normal. Get drunk or something." </p><p>"...Maybe." She knows that she'll give in, but decides to pretend she doesn't think anything of it.</p><p>She looks up. "Come on, you know you can't resist my painfully boring house with that one cookie sheet you hate." </p><p>"It made them cook unevenly, alright?" </p><p>"That was like the second week of school. You sure know how to hold a grudge against baking supplies." She laughs and rolls over, looking up at Mac, who shakes her head but smiles. "Come on. We can rent one of those sad romances and you can take a shot every time I cry. And I'll let you do my makeup." </p><p>Heather laughs at how badly she wants to be a kid again but can't deny that the same feeling is rooted in herself. She shakes her head until Veronica offers up something she can't pass on.</p><p>"I'll let you see me in a dress." </p><p>"Pick me up at six."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Twenty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hey, Sunshine."</p><p>Heather climbs into the car and rolls her eyes. "Are you already drunk? Should I be driving?"</p><p>"I'll let you judge for yourself." Veronica pulls out of the driveway and starts towards her own house. "Also, do you happen to have the history answers? I can't afford to fail another class."</p><p>"Yeah, I brought my books. My mom's on me about my grades again. I know that isn't the ideal way to spend a sleepover-"</p><p>"We both need it. And hey, right now, everything that isn't staying in bed all day counts as productive." She eyes Mac and then looks at her longer. "Have you been crying?"</p><p>"Is it that obvious? I told you, my mom was getting on me about my grades. It's fine."</p><p>"It's not fine if you're upset. Want to talk about it?"</p><p>She shakes her head, and they pull into the driveway.</p><p>"My parents aren't at home. We can order pizza or something." Veronica eyes Mac again. "I'm paying."</p><p>"But-"</p><p>"Shush."</p><p>Heather glares at her but remains silent and grabs her bags. When they get into Veronica's room, she flops down on the bed and is hit with the smell of smoke and lavender. It smells like Veronica, which makes her cheeks go red. She sits up and begins taking books out of her bag to hide it.</p><p>"What are you struggling with the most?" Ronnie asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.</p><p>"Everything! I'm failing high school!"</p><p>She puts a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, Macaroon. We'll figure it out. Let's start with math."</p><p>Heather groans but opens her math book. "I have like a week's worth of work to do."</p><p>"Then we should start."</p><p>Facing her bad grades head-on is what Mac has been avoiding. No one is patient enough to sit there when she breaks down from the pressure or the anger of whoever is trying to help her. That is if someone helps her.</p><p>"O-ok..."</p><p>They work for the next half hour, Veronica trying to explain things step by step and Mac zoning out because of how smart she is. She's proof that you can be smart and beautiful.</p><p>"Heather!" Veronica snaps in front of her face, biting her lip and twirling a pencil.</p><p>"Hmmm?"</p><p>"Come on, stay with me. We're almost done."</p><p>"We are not! I still have like..." she flips through workbook pages and counts them, panic rising more with every page she turns.</p><p>"Heather. Look at me. You have to believe in yourself, okay? No one's expecting you to be perfect but you can do this if you try." Veronica gives her one of those smiles that make Mac have to struggle to not turn red.</p><p>"Thanks, RonRon. How do you do it?" She blurts the question before they can start on the next problem.</p><p>"Do what?"</p><p>"Keep it all together. You had to go to your best friend's funeral and you're... I dunno..."</p><p>"Not sad?" Veronica guesses. "I am, Mac. Believe me. But sometimes you have to push that stuff aside before it possesses you."</p><p>Heather nods and rests her head on her shoulder. "Thanks for helping me. My mom never makes me do homework and my dad is too busy to check. I don't see the point and then panic before tests."</p><p>"We're going to break that cycle, alright? One thing at a time, Macaroon." She erases something on the paper and turns the page of the textbook.</p><p>***</p><p>"I'm going to go pick up the pizza, want to come?" Veronica jiggles her keys and puts one hand on the doorknob.</p><p>"Uh... could I stay here? Anxiety," Mac explains. In truth, her anxiety is fine. But for some reason, she wants to stay in Veronica's room.</p><p>"Yeah, Okay. I'll be back in a minute," Veronica promises before slipping out the door.</p><p>Heather walks back into her room, flopping down on the bed before sitting back up and deciding to surprise her and try to do some work on her own. She glances at the desk and realizes she needs paper.</p><p>The first desk drawer is full of random pencils, old coupons and recipes, and paints. So much as been shoved in it that it will barely close. The second one is filled with markers, pens, and has a jar of cash.</p><p>The third one is hidden by stacked shoeboxes and locked.</p><p>I shouldn't.</p><p>She begins digging around the jewelry box on the dresser for a key nonetheless, pulling out necklaces and bracelets and... photos?</p><p>A stack of them sits at the bottom of the box. Forgetting about the paper and the key, she begins flipping through them.</p><p>Veronica and JD. Them in a car, both grinning with unlit cigarettes held in the corner of their mouths. Her with her head thrown back in laughter, him with an arm over her shoulders as he looks at her. Some are posed, most likely due to the request of a stubborn Veronica. The stack comes to an end five photos later. She flips the last one over, one where Veronica sits on a bench, with what looks like fire illuminating her face. The background is dark. She holds her arm up, but Mac fails to see anything out of the ordinary. She isn't wearing a bracelet or anything to show off to a camera.</p><p>Heather swears she can see tear stains on her face.</p><p>On the back are three words written in black marker. It isn't Veronica's neat handwriting, but letters that are slanted and thick.</p><p>To The End.</p><p>She tosses the photos down and spots something shiny on the bottom of the box. Picking it up, her fingers slide around the body of a red lighter with "1989" written in marker. She flicks it but no flame starts.</p><p>Is it some kind of metaphor? Does it have to do with him? She puts it back and pulls a neatly folded piece of paper out. As she unfolds it, a pang of guilt hits her chest. Last time she went through something of Veronica's it didn't end well. But the curiosity is too much to resist giving in to.</p><p>I'm finally getting out of this place. I'll be free. Maybe if it weren't such a crappy life in Sherwood, at Westerburg, I'd stay. But it is. Life doesn't have to be this way, and I'm glad that it won't be for much longer.</p><p>Under it are random lines. Forgive me for wanting to leave....maybe I don't have a chance at redemption... I hope this gives someone courage...</p><p>All of them are crossed out. Heather's hands shake as she folds it. It's a suicide note, it has to be. She puts the contents back in the jewelry box and closes it, sitting on the edge of the bed and debating what to do. She can't confront Veronica with their friendship already on the line after the kiss. Bringing up JD can't end any better than that did.</p><p>Then she thinks back to the diary. One entry stands out in her mind. "I told him today," it read. She finds her next move an act of impulse fueled by concern. Veronica's diary is in the first drawer of her nightstand. She flips through until finding the entry.</p><p>Dear Diary,</p><p>I told him today. I felt my life fall apart when I saw those two lines a few hours ago, and I hoped he would understand. It didn't go as bad as I thought it would, but we're both still in shock and trying to figure things out. I don't know if the plan we thought of as a joke will really be the solution now. I think it will. I'll write later, I'm exhausted.</p><p>V.S</p><p>The first time that Heather went through the diary, she didn't understand as she skimmed the entry. Only now it clicks into place. She told him about the baby that day. Mac furrows a brow, closing the book with shaking hands as another realization hits her.</p><p>Veronica found out that she was pregnant just weeks ago.</p><p>But the entry is from September.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Twenty-One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Heather, I'm back!"</p><p>She shoves the diary back in the drawer and hops up, scanning the room to make sure everything is back in place before running to Veronica and jumping into a hug with so much force they almost fall backward.</p><p>"Woah, you okay? Pizza's on the counter. I have vodka in my closet." They break apart, but Mac continues to hold onto her. Would asking about the note result in a fight?</p><p>So what if she hates her? Heather needs her safe.</p><p>"Ronnie." She buries her face in her shoulder, Veronica's hand on her back.</p><p>"I was gone for like, ten minutes, Mac."</p><p>"I know. Tonight, could we talk?" They break off completely and start taking out plates.</p><p>"Yeah, of course." She and Veronica eat while watching TV, one of them joking about the show every once in a while but sitting in silence. When they finish, they go up to Veronica's room and close the door.</p><p>"So, your parents won't be home at all tonight?"</p><p>"Nope. Work stuff and they're staying in a hotel." Veronica begins digging through the second drawer of her dresser. She pulls out a bottle of Vodka and grins at Mac. "Shall we?"</p><p>Heather smiles back as she jumps onto the bed, sitting on her knees and unscrewing the lid.</p><p>"Every answer-and it has to be honest- we drink?" When she gets a nod, she shifts so that she sits cross-legged.</p><p>"Worst fear?"</p><p>"Failing finals." Veronica takes a swig as Mac rolls her eyes. "And being used again," she adds quietly. She passes the bottle to Heather. "Longest insecurity?"</p><p>"That everyone hates me, I guess. And my weight." She too takes a swig and passes it back. It burns going down. "What's something you haven't told anybody, even Martha?"</p><p>"She ruined the princess bride for me. And I love reading horror." She takes a longer drink than before. "What's something you don't have the guts to tell your mom?"</p><p>"That I hate her." Veronica looks up. Heather swallows, the confession leaving a bitter taste in her mouth that even the vodka can't cover. "I hate our entire family. I wish we were normal. What's something you'd never tell your parents?"</p><p>She snorts. "That I smoke. That I sell alcohol. That-" she puts a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening as she looks up. "Crap."</p><p>"You what?!"</p><p>"Nothing. Can you forget I said that?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>She sighs. "Please don't tell-"</p><p>"I won't. Do you have anything else?" Heather nods to the vodka and Veronica jumps up and opens the closet, taking out a shoebox.</p><p>"Yeah, let's try these, they were only like a dollar each and I don't know anyone who will buy them." She dumps several small bottles of champagne and whiskey on the bed. "I also have mixers and tequila."</p><p>"Jesus, it's like a convenience store in here!" She opens one of the bottles without even looking. "Oops."</p><p>Veronica grins and runs out of the room, returning a minute later with red plastic cups and shot glasses. "Alright. If you could take back one thing in your life, what would it be?"</p><p>McNamara thinks for a long moment. "Being born."</p><p>After several seconds of struggling to stifle her laughter, Veronica snorts and doubles over before dumping champagne into a cup and mixing it with tequila. "I've always wanted to try this." She takes a sip and grimaces. "Never mind."</p><p>"What was your first thought when you found out you were pregnant?"</p><p>"Oops." She lets out another tipsy laugh. Mac is tempted to ask her about the entry and the note but decides to wait until she's drunk so that she can say that she told her it herself later. "Who was your first crush?"</p><p>"This kid named Aiden. I don't know why I liked him, but I was in fourth grade... so whatever." She drinks and then takes the red cup from Ronnie. "It can't be that bad."</p><p>Then she takes a sip. "Okay, that's bad. If you could get out of Sherwood, where would you go?"</p><p>"Anywhere that isn't here."</p><p>"Are you going to remember me?" She asks, biting her lip and taking a sip of the disgusting contents in her cup.</p><p>"That's two questions." Then she looks up at her, something genuine in her eyes despite the alcohol. The question runs through her mind, immediately gaining a new meaning that she can't say out loud, but the answer is the same. "And yes, I'm going to remember you."</p><p>"Put on a dress."</p><p>Veronica almost chokes. "What?"</p><p>"You told me you would."</p><p>"You're making things up now. Who's-"</p><p>"Please? I bet you look pretty." She tilts her head at her.</p><p>"Fine, Fine. But I'm too sober for that right now and I need you to not remember it." Veronica downs the rest of the cup and tosses it over her shoulder. "I still have beer, too."</p><p>McNamara needs her to talk tonight. If that means getting her so drunk she can't stand, then so be it.</p><p>They spend the next hour talking in between bottles and Veronica pulling bottles out of random places in her room. They've drunk everything except for a few beers and bottles of cheap whiskey. Veronica is much drunker than Mac, stumbling around. Heather finally gets her to put on a dress despite Veronica flipping her off the entire time.</p><p>"It's itchy and horrible and stupid. I look stupid," she slurs, already taking it off and putting her clothes back on.</p><p>"You look beautiful." Heather smiles as she throws herself on the bed and leaves the light blue dress in a heap on the floor.</p><p>"We have to play the game," Veronica slurs, poking her in the collarbone. Her sloppy smile turns to a smirk. "Who's the last person you made out with?"</p><p>"Uh... I dunno." Heather blushes and fiddles with her hands. "I don't really remember."</p><p>When she looks up, Veronica presses their lips together almost instantly. Mac breaks off first, putting one hand on her waist. "Ronnie, I don't think you want to-"</p><p>"I want to. Please?" Her words are so slurred they're almost inaudible mumbles. She tugs at Heather's shirt and moves closer, their lips connecting again. This time they stay like that, Veronica's hands on her bare skin and hers in Veronica's hair.</p><p>"Distract me, Sunshine." She laughs and proceeds to kiss her down to the collarbone. She needs a good memory, something where she's free. There isn't pain right now. She kisses her more passionately before deepening it and begging for entrance. Mac allows, letting her push her against the bed.</p><p>She takes the opportunity to grab her arm, inspecting without her questioning it. An almost heart-shaped burn stands out against her pale skin.</p><p>"What happened?" She asks when Veronica breaks off for air.</p><p>"Made an oath with somebody." She falls down next to her,  arms around Heather's waist, bare skin pressed together making her suck in a breath. It feels electric, something sliding into place and everything being right for just a minute.</p><p>"Who? When did you-"</p><p>"Shhh." Veronica puts a finger against her lips and giggles before leaning closer. "Just kiss me."</p><p>****<br/>Heather wakes up next to Veronica. Well, she wakes up on Veronica. Not the worst way to wake up, she decides. Her arms are still around her waist, a thin blanket pulled over both of them.</p><p>Last night is a blur. She remembers drinking. Dancing. Veronica in a dress and them kiss. A feeling of dread washes over her. Will they talk about it? Did she mean it? Will she hate her? She pushes the thoughts aside and begins getting dressed. The drinking last night is beginning to bite her, a headache blooming in her temples and her stomach-turning.</p><p>She throws up twice before sliding back into bed beside Veronica and laying against her chest. She feels her stir and looks up to see her eyes open.</p><p>"Good morning."</p><p>She gets a groan in response as she walks into the bathroom and starts throwing up. Heather is still holding her hair back ten minutes later. She finally slumps against the bathtub, exhales, and stands up, rubbing her temple.</p><p>"Where's my shirt?"</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>"You took it-" Veronica cuts herself off and pulls a new one out. Mac goes red and looks down. "What did we do last night? Do you feel like crap too?"</p><p>"We got drunk. You got really, really drunk." Then you made out with me, Mac adds in her mind. At least she was gentler than Ram ever was. He pushed her around and pinned her down like she couldn't feel it. After all this time, she still can.</p><p>"Great. I have to clean this place up before my parents get home. Are you hungry?"</p><p>"Yeah, but I'm also nauseous."</p><p>"I'll make toast or something." Veronica leaves the room and returns with a trash bag, tossing plastic cups and empty bottles in it before tying the top and leaving again. Heather walks into the kitchen, seating herself at the counter and yawning. "Want to watch a movie until my parents get home?" She makes toast and pours them both water before sitting down next to her and grabbing a blanket.</p><p>"Sure. Surprise me."</p><p>Veronica grins. "Alright."</p><p>***<br/>"JESUS-" Mac screams, again almost on top of Veronica, but this time from fear. "Why are you doing this to me?!"</p><p>Veronica laughs so hard her face is bright red as she detaches Heather from her. She chose a horror movie for her entertainment. No, not the movie, but Mac being terrified.</p><p>"I hate you," she whimpers before proceeding to scream again.</p><p>"Heather, I can't feel my arm."</p><p>"That's your own fault," Mac snaps, listening to Veronica erupt into laughter again. "Can we talk?"</p><p>She stops laughing. "I'll turn it off it's it's really-"</p><p>"Not about that. About last night." Heather shifts. "Why did you lie about the pregnancy?"</p><p>The color drains out of the other girl's face. "W-What?" She lets out a shaky laugh and moves back a bit. "What are you talking about?"</p><p>Heather sighs. "Last night, you said that you've known about the pregnancy since September. He knew about it too."</p><p>"I was drunk," Veronica says. "Don't believe anything I said."</p><p>"You have a burn on your left wrist. You said you made an oath with somebody."</p><p>She lifts up her arm, her eyes widening as she swallows. "Yes, maybe."</p><p>"It's in your diary. That you've known since September about being pregnant. So why did you act like you didn't know?"</p><p>"I was in denial."</p><p>Heather furrows a brow. "But when I walked in-"</p><p>"I still had the test. I told you, I was in denial." Veronica swallows the lump in her throat, gripping the blanket to hide her shaking hands. "I was scared."</p><p>"Okay... But you told him-"</p><p>"So? It's his baby too."</p><p>"If you could tell him, how come you couldn't tell me? Or someone that could help you tell your parents-"</p><p>"I didn't know who I could trust."</p><p>Heather sighs, looking for more than one line answers.</p><p>"Are you done with your interrogation?"</p><p>She takes Veronica's hand. "I'm just curious. And I saw some dark stuff in there, I want to make sure you're okay."</p><p>"I'm fine," she snaps, ripping her hand away.</p><p>"One more thing, I'm just curious, what was the oath about?"</p><p>"Heather, stop. It was from when I was younger, I was stupid." </p><p>But the lighter said 1889... she thinks. "Okay. Okay, sorry to..."</p><p>"It's fine. Let's just watch the movie." She curls up next to Mac again, but the questions leave her feeling miles away.</p><p>***</p><p>The girls are almost asleep when the phone rings.</p><p>"It's probably Martha, I don't know who else would be calling," Veronica explains as she gets to her feet.</p><p>"Hello?" Shuffling is all that comes through. "Hello? Martha?"</p><p>The line goes dead. Veronica shivers, a chill running through her.</p><p>"Come on, I'll drive you home and then stop by."</p><p>Heather stretches and follows her to the bedroom to gather her things. "Thanks for letting me stay over. Do you think something's... wrong?"</p><p>"I doubt it." She pulls her into a hug before leading her to the car. "And thanks for coming over."</p><p>"Anytime."</p><p>As they approach her house, her stomach turns. At first, she thinks back to the alcohol. But it isn't hangover nausea. It's anxiety that makes her whimper.</p><p>"Mac? You okay?"</p><p>"Yeah. Just be careful, alright?" She takes her seatbelt off and gives Veronica another hug.</p><p>"Okay... want me to walk you up?"</p><p>"I'm okay. Call me later!" She calls over her shoulder before running up to the front door. Veronica waits until she's safe inside before driving to Martha's. No one answers the door.</p><p>"Hello?! It's me!" She tries to the knob to find it unlocked. "Hello?" She calls again, stepping inside. "Martha?"</p><p>She makes her way into the kitchen to see the receiver dangling below the phone. Setting it back in place, she makes her way down the silent hall, complete with framed pictures of a young, frizzy-haired Martha beside a stick-thin Veronica. The pregnancy stole that waistline.</p><p>"Martha?"</p><p>Her bedroom door is only open a few inches. She takes a shaky breath and gives it a push, stepping into the room.</p><p>The smell of copper hits her.</p><p>Someone squeezes the air out of her from the inside, pushing her against the wall with invisible hands around her neck until she can't manage a "no," or take another step. There seems to only be one thing her body will let her do.</p><p>She screams until everything goes black.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Twenty-Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Yes- She's awake."</p><p>Veronica awakens to voices. Many voices and a ring in her ear. She jerks up, panic sinking in when she remembers. Images of Martha remain tattooed in her mind. Blood. The chill.</p><p>"What happened?" She manages.</p><p>"Shock or dehydration, you passed out. Do you have any idea how long you were asleep for?" An officer stands over her. She gets to her feet only to wobble and almost fall back down.</p><p>"Don't know. I got here and I saw it. I saw her and I just- Where's Mac? I want Mac!"</p><p>"Let's get you out of here and we'll call someone, alright? Honey, I need you to breathe."</p><p>"She's dead, she's dead, I want Mac!" Veronica's hyperventilating turns to sobbing. "She's dead."</p><p>The cold air hits her face, but being numb prevents it from helping her calm down. Cold. It's what she felt when she saw her best friend's dead body. The feeling hasn't faded. Sitting on the porch, she buries her head in her knees and rocks back and forth.</p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Dunstock stand by, crying and watching everything unfold.</p><p>"...be careful, Alright?"</p><p>"Why did you lie about the pregnancy?"</p><p>"I'll see you again!"</p><p>Heather runs up the steps and sits down, prying Veronica's hands off of her ears. "Veronica. Ronnie, look at me!"</p><p>"She's dead. She's dead, she's dead, she's dead!"</p><p>"I know. I know."</p><p>Pain. It's all Veronica can identify. Worse than when she found out about Betty or Duke. Worse than the pain that he gave her.</p><p>"Ronnie, I'm so sorry."</p><p>She falls into Mac's arms, her entire body shaking with violent sobs. "No. No! She's dead!"</p><p>Heather runs her fingers through her hair, trying to keep her looking anywhere except the ambulance in front. She never should have let her go into the house.</p><p>"Ronnie, I'm going to get you home. Come on, stand up." She puts one arm around her waist and the other on her arm, leading her to her dad's car. Helping Veronica into the passenger seat, she grabs a half-full water bottle from the cupholder and holds it to her lips. She takes a small sip but then waves her away, curling up again. Heather jogs to the other side of the car and slides in. "Keep breathing."</p><p>They pull up to Veronica's house several minutes later. She's still crying too hard to talk. Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer run down the driveway when they get out.</p><p>"What happened?"</p><p>"Martha killed herself. Veronica went over and saw her dead. She passed out and-" She turns to a trembling Ronnie, who buries her face in her chest. "Let's get her inside." They nod and lead her to the house. She convinces Veronica to lay down and turns to go to the kitchen.</p><p>"Mac. Don't leave!"</p><p>"I'm not, I'll just be in the other room." She gives her a smile but is pulled down next to her.</p><p>"Stay."</p><p>Heather pulls her into a hug, tears wetting the front of her shirt. She rubs her back until her tears dry and she drifts off to sleep. Gently detaching herself and pulling the blanket up further, Heather tiptoes to the kitchen and sits down.</p><p>"Hello, Heather," Mrs. Saywer greets her. "Would you like something to drink?"</p><p>"Water, please." She sighs and props her head up with her hand as a cup of water is slid in front of her. "Thanks. Ronnie's sleeping."</p><p>"Poor thing. No one should walk in on suicide, especially not a teenager."</p><p>"I'm worried about her. Betty. Martha. Jason. And she thought it was over." She chuckles and takes a sip. "We both did."</p><p>"Pray that it is over."</p><p>It's all they can do.</p><p>***</p><p>Veronica watches the news from a hotel room.</p><p>"New evidence found at the crime scene points to high schoolers Amelia Howard and her boyfriend, Charles. They are being charged with arson and murder in the second degree."</p><p>"It worked, huh?" A voice speaks from behind her. She nods, her eyes still glued to the screen. Innocent people are going to jail because of her.</p><p>"I'm... gonna smoke." She glances at him, and when he doesn't look up, she grabs her cigarettes and lighter and steps onto the balcony. The city sleeps beneath her, but lives even at this time of night. Cars rush down the streets, occasionally honking at one another. The city air used to be inspirational. A fresh start.</p><p>By now, her fresh start is covered in blood.</p><p>She shakes her head and steps back into the warm room.</p><p>"We leave at six tomorrow."</p><p>She slips into bed next to him, pulling soft sheets over her bare arms and resting her head against his chest. "Do you think they ever wonder what happened to us?"</p><p>"They don't care, Ronnie."</p><p>"Yeah, but do you think they wonder? Or guess that we're here?"</p><p>"Nope," he laughs. "And that's a good thing."</p><p>That's a good thing. It means that they're getting away with it. He and the city is all she has. Him, the city, and the things she's done.</p><p>She waits until he's asleep to let cold tears run down her cheeks.</p><p>She's stuck. <br/>Stuck with the memories.<br/>Alone.</p><p>How did she get here?</p><p>***</p><p>"Heather?" Snapping awake, the first thing she looks for is the blonde girl that was pressed against her when she fell asleep. "Heather!"</p><p>Panic surges through her. Martha. Tears immediately form in her eyes, her legs giving out. Falling to the floor, she shouts for Heather again, unable to make herself walk out there. Is Heather dead too?</p><p>Someone runs into the room, seeing her on the floor and kneeling down. "Ronnie?"</p><p>"I thought you were..." Veronica throws her arms around her, pulling her closer. "You scared me!"</p><p>"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were awake." She begins to rub her back, Veronica sliding down and laying her head in her lap.</p><p>"She's dead. Why is she dead?!"</p><p>"I'm sorry."</p><p>"I hate her," she sobs. "I'm just going to sleep thinking about it only to wake up and think about it again. And it's never going to stop. Make it stop, Mac!"</p><p>"I wish I could. Breathe, okay? There's nothing you could have done. Nothing." She puts a hand on her shoulder and strokes her hair with her other one.</p><p>"I'm going to have to go to the funeral. Her funeral." She covers her mouth with her hand.</p><p>She wonders if the sun will ever shine again. She wonders if she'll ever feel okay again. She wonders if she'll ever be able to pick up a phone again.</p><p>As of right now, the possibility of any of those happening is as dark as the city sky outside of that hotel room. Except that none of the buildings are bright anymore.</p><p>It's one less thing that she has.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Twenty-Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Three days later</p><p>Veronica feels broken.</p><p>Heather comes to her house every day that she can after school. Veronica comes to school most days, and when she doesn't, Heather walks in to see the same sight. Which is what she sees today.</p><p>"Ronnie?" She knocks softly before opening the door. "Hey, I brought your schoolwork. And I stopped and got snacks." She sits on the edge of the bed, where there's a mountain of blankets forming a lump. "Ronnie."</p><p>The blankets shift. She pulls them down a few inches to reveal a red-faced Veronica, partly from the heat of the blankets and partly from crying.</p><p>Heather smiles at her. "Hi!"</p><p>"Mhmm." She shifts again.</p><p>"Want help with your homework? I don't know why, but it felt like the teachers were trying to annoy me today." She lays on her back and pokes Veronica until she sits up.</p><p>"It's too early."</p><p>"It's almost four in the afternoon."</p><p>She lays back down in response.</p><p>"Okay, let's talk," Heather tries. It earns her an "Okay," but when she's met with silence she sighs again. "I meant you, Ronnie."</p><p>"What do you want me to say?" She asks her voice so small it makes Heather wince. She sounds broken, tired though having rested all day.</p><p>"Whatever you want. How you've been feeling, how things have been... things that have happened."</p><p>"Uh...I'm fine." It comes out more like a question.</p><p>Heather pulls the blankets down further. "You're not. Come on, I'll get tissues."</p><p>"Mac, you don't need to play therapist. I'm fine."</p><p>She finds herself sitting up and in front of a box of tissues and a patient Mac. "Go ahead."</p><p>Veronica plays with her hands. The sooner she gets this over with, the sooner Mac will leave. "Uh, I'm sad, I guess." Heather nods, propping her chin upon her hands, her elbows on her legs. <br/>"I should be doing something. School. Business. I'm wasting your time-"</p><p>"You're not. I don't have anything to do except for going home and listening to my mom scream. Go on."</p><p>"I just don't get why I'm losing everybody. If I didn't have a baby I'd wish someone would kill me, too." She laughs, but it falls flat. "And I hate these damn cluster suicides. I get that Betty was her best friend... but come on, you'll die soon enough and see her. I'll never understand why Betty... I never will." She sniffles and stares at the bedspread.</p><p>"What if they're connected... all of them..." Heather says it more to herself, but it earns her a glance.</p><p>"What? No, stop."</p><p>Now it's her turn to look up. "Sorry. Anyways, what else... what about the nightmares? Still going on?"</p><p>"Kind of."</p><p>"About October?" She takes her hand, sucking in a breath.</p><p>"What?" Something changes in Veronica's face. "No."</p><p>"Do you still have flashbacks about the bomb?"</p><p>"Can we... not talk about that?" She rips her hand away.</p><p>"Yeah. We just never talked about it-"</p><p>"There's nothing to talk about."</p><p>Heather begs to differ. There's a lot to talk about, things that Veronica refuses to say. There's a list of topics that she avoids in hope that they won't fight. She tells herself that the wound is still raw but wishes she'd talk at some point.</p><p>"O-okay... anything you want to get off your chest about the past? You'll feel better."</p><p>"We kissed," she says flatly. "Well, we made out. And we never talked about it."</p><p>"I thought we were going to pretend that never happened."</p><p>"Me too." She looks up, biting her lip. "But... I think we should talk about it."</p><p>"I agree. So... it was a mistake, right? You were drunk... I was tipsy... we're both lonely..."</p><p>"And I'm sorry," Veronica finishes her sentence. "I shouldn't have..."</p><p>"You don't have to be," she blurts. "I liked it." Both of them were trying to sidestep the inevitable awkward silence, but it comes nonetheless. "Sorry. That sounded..."</p><p>"It's fine. But why did you kiss me back? You could have pushed me off of you or slapped me and I would have backed off."</p><p>Heather goes red. "I know that you'd hate me if it happened while we were sober. I'm sorry, it's horrible-"</p><p>"Mac."</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"I'm never going to hate you." Veronica grabs her hand, taking her by surprise. "You're all I have, I told you. I can't lose anyone else."</p><p>Heather moves closer. One hand rests on Veronica's cheek as she kisses her softly, letting it fall back to her lap when they break off. "I don't know how else to tell you," she whispers. Veronica is frozen, her eyes wide and her lips parted.</p><p>"I-"</p><p>"I'll go now-"</p><p>"No!" She grabs her arm before she can run. "I'm not mad, I'm just..."</p><p>"In shock? Pissed? Say something, please."</p><p>"No. I need you to know something." Veronica sits closer and pulls her against her chest, running her fingers through her hair fast enough to make Heather nervous. "We're never going to be more than friends, Heather. But I'm not saying that to break your heart, I'm saying that because I'm trying to protect you." She takes a shaky breath. "There are things... that I don't want you involved in. And I can only tell you so much..."</p><p>"What are you talking about?"</p><p>Veronica takes another breath, hugging her tighter. "If something happens, know that everything I'll do is to protect you."</p><p>"What's going to happen? You're scaring me!"</p><p>"I'm sorry. Just... no more snooping, Alright? If you have questions you can ask me, but-"</p><p>"I feel like there's another reason you hid the pregnancy."</p><p>Veronica sits her up and sits cross-legged. "Nope. I was scared, to say the least. Scared of what my parents would think. What Westerburg would think."</p><p>"Was he mad when you told him?"</p><p>This time she struggles to find the right words. "He was... surprised. But accepting."</p><p>"...Did he make you keep quiet about it?"</p><p>"What? No," Veronica answers.</p><p>"Did you know about the bomb... before?"</p><p>"No." She stares at the ground. "It wasn't... it shouldn't have happened. It messed things up."</p><p>"It messed you up. It's not fair, you're the one who has to live with it." Heather pauses before risking another question. "What did you see?"</p><p>"Before..." A distant look overtakes Veronica's eyes like she's looking through things instead of at them. "Smoke. I could feel the heat. For a second... I thought I saw blood. His blood." She looks up at Heather, a tear rolling down her cheek. "And I probably did. But I don't want to think about it."</p><p>Heather pulls her into her arms, her hand on her back. She can feel a fast heartbreak and hears a sniffle. Deciding that's enough with the questions, she stands and pulls books out of her bag.</p><p>"Is that tutoring offer still valid?"</p><p>***</p><p>Heather can't stop thinking about the deaths. Not because of the pain, but the thirst for answers that runs in her blood. She also wants to solve the mystery for Veronica, who wants nothing more but to know why.</p><p>That night at the library, she writes out each death since Ram and Kurt. They all left suicide notes. She writes out Duke's from the pamphlet she got at the funeral, then Betty's and Martha's. </p><p>She reads them over but doesn't find anything that stands out. But on her third time reading through, she notices how similar some of the lines sound.</p><p>"...the world will be better once I am no longer alive..." It is the last line of Betty's.</p><p>"I left because happiness is what I failed to derive." Is the first line of Martha's. "My time here is completed." Is the last.</p><p>She rereads Duke's. The first line rhymes with the last line of Chandler's.</p><p>"....things are almost complete..." Is the last line Duke wrote. No punctuation. Nothing else.</p><p>Heather lets out an audible gasp. "It's one suicide note."</p><p>***</p><p>"Please, just tell me how she died."</p><p>The woman on the other side of the counter sighs. "Asphyxiation. But they think she died before." She looks down at the papers in front of her.</p><p>"Before she hung herself? But that means... okay, thanks!" She runs out of the building.</p><p>Then she calls Veronica. She calls until she answers, bouncing a bit when she finally hears a groggy voice.</p><p>"Hello?"</p><p>"Ronnie! I've been at the library and-"</p><p>"It's almost eleven, go home," She yawns.</p><p>"You know how I thought something was strange about the suicides?"</p><p>A heavy sigh comes from the other end. "Mac, stop, there's nothing-"</p><p>"Well, they're not suicides. They're murders."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Twenty-Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The line goes dead.</p><p>She calls back immediately, oblivious to the other girl's irritation. "Ronnie, before you hang up, please listen to me!"</p><p>Silence. She exhales and holds the phone tighter, trying not to shout and wake up her parents. "I read over the suicide notes, and Chandler and Duke's are connected, and Martha and Betty's are, too. Duke's ends like... like it's going to be continued! What if someone else dies?"</p><p>"Heather." Heather can tell by her tone that she isn't considering it. "Go to bed."</p><p>"But-"</p><p>"Goodnight." She hangs up once again.</p><p>Veronica's reasons for not wanting to speak of the suicides- or murders- remains unknown to Heather. Though glad that they are on good terms- good enough to make Veronica talk about something she rarely does, she wants to know why she turns cold at even the mention of the deaths. More so, she wonders if she has anything to do with them.</p><p>She lays in bed and thinks about it all. The kiss. Veronica telling her that they'd never be a thing. The possibility that they were all murdered. If her theory is true, there's a killer in Sherwood. The thoughts makes her chest heavy and leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. What had Veronica meant by there being things she doesn't want her involved in? Is she doing something bad?</p><p>Heather promises herself that she'll look into it more tomorrow. With that, she drifts off to sleep.</p><p>***</p><p>Veronica doesn't sleep as well as Heather that night. She has to keep her safe.</p><p>She won't forgive herself if something happens to her.</p><p>Little does Heather know, the simple act of interacting with Veronica is making her a chess piece in a dangerous game. She's oblivious to the board and who else may be playing. It's roll the dice, but with the stakes being their lives.</p><p>And none of them yet know it.</p><p>She tosses and turns, restless. It's past midnight when she gives up. Her wrist burns, a stinging that cuts through her arm. She looks down at the almost heart-shaped burn.</p><p>"...an old friend," she'd told McNamara. "....young, stupid..." She laughs at that.</p><p>An old friend. She supposes you could say that. It still burns after months, usually when she holds a gun. Sometimes when she lays down.</p><p>"Jesus, Ronnie. You're acting as I shot you."</p><p>She'd begged for him to stop halfway through only to be pinned down with more force than before to keep her from pulling away. He'd barely flinched. The matching scars ties her to him in ways she hates. To her, it's a symbol of pain that he called love. A lie that she believed:</p><p>She remembers the oath but tries to forget. As if she could ever. What comes across as anger at Heather is buried anxiety. Buried anxiety that surfaces with every kiss.</p><p>Why does Mac like her? Why her? There's too much for her. Too much at stake until Veronica knows for sure what's going on. Heather makes her feel like she hasn't lost her mind yet, like she isn't broken. Something that by now she's sure that she is. But Heather still holds innocence that Veronica would be selfish for taking. It feels selfish to hold her close. It's would be doing what JD did to her; holding her against a flame despite her struggles to flee.</p><p>She looks at the burn again. Then she slides down to the floor with her diary, giving up the idea that she'll get a drop of sleep.</p><p>***<br/>NEXT NIGHT</p><p>A figure stands near a derelict house, pure black attire helping them blend in with the night. They walk over to a patch of dirt, noticing a small flower. Kicking it out of the way, they kneel down and slide their fingers under a wooden board, prying it up with no effort at all. Dust flies up, infecting the crisp night air with a thick cloud. Inside is an envelope. No address nor return address. No name. They open the envelope and take out a white paper. A letter. ~</p><p>Apologies for not writing in some time. My days have been busy as I'm sure yours have been as well. I'll get to the point. We had an agreement. I am writing to ask if you are still in town, and if so, when are you leaving?</p><p>I'm afraid that by writing this, I am falling back into something it is best for me to stay from. But I no longer have much to stay for. It is my belief that we can make it if we both play the part. We can forget who we were and who they want us to be and let things play out. I used to think that by doing so, I'd be throwing everything away, but I am beginning to think that all I have is something to gain.</p><p>We could turn things around. It's suicide for me to run in this direction, but I write this in a time of hopelessness. I don't know if I can wait until June. You told me once, say the word and you'd get me out of here. Well, this, in a way, is my word. Pain has forced it out of me.</p><p>What are your next plans? Where do I fall into them? I often wonder if I'll see your face again. I don't want to see it here.</p><p>Yours always, <br/>Gloria</p><p>They smirk, folding the letter and walking to a car. They pull a notepad and pen out of the glove box.</p><p>Darling Gloria,</p><p>A change of mind, I see. I have business here to finish, but once that is completed we'll be on our way, taking this as consent to end your suffering of staying in this place. We can further discuss times once I know when it is done.</p><p>You always have been in my plans, and I am deeply sorry for the delay. Things have come up, and matters have been dealt with that were never before intended. But once I finish this, there won't be any more delays, I promise. I can reassure you that things will be better with fewer worries. There are things you take a chance for. This is one of them. You'll have a new something, one I guarantee you will be happy with.</p><p>Any plans for the city? An inspiring place from what I've seen. Remember, there won't be anything to hold you back. Who knows, you could be something big. As big as you can get in that lifestyle.</p><p>We won't be counting cents, I will reassure you. We both know what the next matter of business is, but a few days will pass so that suspicion will stay low.</p><p>And I am afraid you don't have much say in my whereabouts, but I hope to be out of here, too.</p><p>I'm glad you too wish to turn things around. The time away has been unbearable.</p><p>Until next time, Gloria. Until next time. <br/>~</p><p>They fold up the paper, slip it into their pocket, and drive away.</p><p>***<br/>THE DAY BEFORE THAT NIGHT</p><p>Heather jogs up to Veronica the next morning, fueled with coffee. "Hey! I couldn't stop thinking about it last night. Oh my god! You should write an article! For the paper or the school-" she throws her hands up. "The Sherwood Killer-" Wait, no-"</p><p>Veronica isn't having it.</p><p>"Stop, Heather." She slams her locker and shifts her books that are held to her chest.</p><p>"But It could be something big! "Are the suicides really that- suicide? Or could there be another cause?" It sounds great! I'll help you, I'll go back-"</p><p>"Stop!"</p><p>"Come on." She walks faster to catch up to Veronica. "It's not a coincidence. You don't know that your suicide note is going to rhyme with someone else's. They could have planned all of their deaths, but why have them so spread out? And I went to the autopsy place-"</p><p>"Shut up!"</p><p>She goes silent. Tears form in Veronica's eyes, her books almost sliding from her grip because of her shaking hands.</p><p>"I'm not doing this with you. I'm not going on a chase for a murderer and putting it in the paper when there's nothing to even investigate! You're just making this harder!" She chokes on a sob, her tears of irritation drying as she speed-walks away.</p><p>"Ronnie, Wait!" Heather jogs after her but stops when she goes to class. She sighs and begins walking to her own.</p><p>Tonight, she'll make a stop at the library. Sorry, Veronica. A story is a story, no matter who it comes from.</p><p>And if McNamara has to break the ice about the murders herself, that's exactly what she'll do.</p>
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<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Twenty-Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I'm sorry, Ronnie. :( Pls talk 2 me</p><p>Heather slides the note to Veronica. She stares at her lap as she unfolds it, tapping her heel against the floor. Seconds later, a note is passed back to her.</p><p>Stop investigating. Then we can talk again.</p><p>Okkkk :)</p><p>They walk out of the school, Veronica dragging Heather by the arm to her car. When they get there, she leans against it and pulls her close.</p><p>"Listen to me. No more meddling in this stuff, okay?"</p><p>Heather's focus stays on how close they are. She looks up and nods, smiling at her. "I promise."</p><p>Their lips meet for a second before she pulls back, her hand on Veronica's arm. "We shouldn't."</p><p>She looks around before grabbing Heather's hand and pulling her into the back seat on top of her. "You're right, we really shouldn't, not here-"</p><p>The second the door closes, their words are forgotten.</p><p>***</p><p>"We should get home," Veronica says, looking down at Heather, who lays with her head on her lap.</p><p>"Could you drop me off at the library? It's for a book, I promise," she adds, seeing the questioning look that follows her question.</p><p>"Yeah, Okay." They move to the front, Veronica starting the car as Mac rests her head against the window. "We're never going to be a thing... I'll always protect you... not trying to break your heart..." the words from the other day replay in her mind.</p><p>"Ronnie?"</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>"Do you like me?" She blurts. "Because I can't keep acting like you didn't make it clear we'll never be anything more and then continue to make out with you."</p><p>"Mac, it's complicated."</p><p>"That's a relationship status, not an explanation. It's yes or no." She leans her head on the side of the car again, avoiding meeting Veronica's eye.</p><p>"I... look, yes, I like you. But I can't. We can't do this."</p><p>"Why not? Because you're scared I'm going to hurt you?"</p><p>Veronica sighs, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel. "No. I can't explain, but I need you to listen to me. I'm trying to protect you."</p><p>"From what? From who?! You're concerned about my safety but refuse to help me find the killer and put an end to things. And what am I supposed to do, act like it isn't killing me that I know I have to get over you? We can't keep doing this."</p><p>"I'm sorry. And I know we can't. Everything will make sense eventually."</p><p>"I hope you're not lying, Ronnie."</p><p>The rest of the car ride is coated in painful silence. They pull up to the library and Mac climbs out, giving Veronica a mere wave and mumbled "Thanks" before walking inside.</p><p>She lays out her notes, the title "The Sherwood Killer."</p><p>First Chandler. Ram, Kurt, Duke, Betty, and Martha. She reads over the methods, noting patterns and what possible signs. She has all of the suicide notes written down, along with the date and times.</p><p>Suspects: <br/>Motives:</p><p>So far she has nothing for that. Lots of people would want hurt Duke... but people like Martha and Betty? They were classified as nerds by the rest of the school, but would someone really go as far as killing them because of mere dislike?</p><p>Someone could have killed Duke because they wanted her popularity. Martha and Betty... Maybe, Betty, had a secret and Martha killed herself because Betty did. Or some of them killed themselves and some were killed.</p><p>Everything started after the October incident. Meaning it all leads back to JD and Veronica. Veronica had plenty of motives to kill Duke, but the rest of them? Why would she kill her best friends? She was with Heather when they got the call about Duke and with her when they heard about Betty. Martha called when they were together... is it a coincidence that they were together at the time of all the deaths?</p><p>There has to be a trigger, she thinks, tapping her pencil against the table. The October incident... it left everyone traumatized, damaged. Especially Veronica. That was the starting point of the deaths... but JD isn't alive to kill them.</p><p>Would Veronica really do something like this?</p><p>She has to know more about October and the incidents leading up to it. Standing and stretching, she walks over to the desk.</p><p>"Excuse me? I need the Sherwood paper from October. Every article you have from September and October."</p><p>A man sitting to the left of the woman she spoke to pushes his chair out, standing and motioning for her to follow. They walk to the doorway of another room, which he walks into and lets the door close behind him. Heather observes the red carpet and sound of whispering, looking from side to side and tilting her head to read the titles on the spines of nearby books. The door opening once again startles her into taking a step back.</p><p>He hands her a box full of papers. The smell of paper and old books wafts into her face. She makes her way back to the table, setting the box down and beginning to dig through it.</p><p>"Westerburg High School Dubbed "Suicide High" Following Three Unexpected Deaths "</p><p>A tribute for Chandler is on the back, written by her parents. Another paper has a tribute for JD written by Veronica Sawyer.</p><p>She never told me.</p><p>There isn't anything weird about that, but she writes it down nonetheless. There are many papers without anything that helps. Finally, she turns to the next topic: crimes.</p><p>Not much has happened since the October incident; a few car robberies, shoplifting, and a jewelry store being robbed. But before that...</p><p>Workers of Wirestone Post Publishing Company Under Investigation After Building Explosion</p><p>Isn't that she place Veronica went for a job interview? "They told me not to quit my day job!" She recalls an angry Sawyer yelling one day.</p><p>Convenience store robbed shortly before the head cashier's suicide</p><p>She reads on about burglaries and stolen jewelry, along with petty crimes like throwing rocks through car windshields.</p><p>Jewelry Sold at a thrift store by teenagers decided stolen</p><p>She sets the papers aside, writing down everything and the dates. The convenience store was robbed early in the morning, and the building explosion was at night. The jewelry was also in the morning.</p><p>Thought hating to think about it, she has to check. She walks over to the phone used by the public, flipping through the phone book until finding the number for Westerburg.</p><p>"Hello?"</p><p>"Hello, I'm calling about my daughter. On October 12th, did Veronica Sawyer come to school?"</p><p>There's a short silence on the other end. "We have her marked as late."</p><p>"Okay... what about her friend, Jason Dean?"</p><p>"Late."</p><p>"Thank you." She slams the phone down before she can be asked anything. It doesn't mean anything, she tells herself. She calls the next number she has at the back of her notebook.</p><p>"Hi, Mrs, Sawyer, it's Heather. Do you remember what day Veronica went in for that job interview at that publishing place?"</p><p>"...Wirestone one? October 4th."</p><p>The explosion was on the sixth... "T-thanks." Hanging up, she jots down the information.</p><p>Veronica and Jason could have been late to school because they went to sell stolen jewelry... but why? Does that mean that they're the cause of some of the burglaries?</p><p>She turns back to the papers from after the incident, looking for something that talks about the incident directly.</p><p>Westerburg High School has earned a reputation for suicide, but the fourth has been by far the most extreme, making us ask ourselves, do we underestimate teenagers?</p><p>The next paragraph talks about the bomb, and finally, she finds something about the people she's investigating.</p><p>...figures were seen running through the woods.... eyewitness... explosion... minimal damage is done to the football field... spotted running towards football field...</p><p>Wait. Why would she run in that direction? Why did she lie? Wasn't the bomb in the football field? Where was she running?</p><p>Heather throws the paper down, gathering them all and stuffing them into her bag. She takes a long way home to give her time to think.</p><p>She decides to make a stop at Veronica's.</p><p>"Heather? What are you-"</p><p>"We need to talk," Heather shoves her out of the way and goes to her bedroom, digging the paper out of her bag and throwing it down on her desk. Veronica follows. "Sit."</p><p>"Uh-" Veronica sits down, fiddling with her hands.</p><p>"You ran from the bomb, right? You ran into the woods?"</p><p>"I told you not to-"</p><p>"Answer me!"</p><p>"Yes. Apparently, you already know that." Veronica shifts, sucking in a breath and readying herself. The worst thing you can do while lying is panic.</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"Uh... a bomb was about to go off, of course, I ran!"</p><p>"So you ran from it..." Heather folds her hands.</p><p>"What are you doing?! Why are you asking me?"</p><p>She sighs. "The thing is, Ronnie..." she looks her dead in the eye. "You told me you were close enough to see blood."</p>
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<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Twenty-Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I lied about where the bomb was. No. I didn't. Veronica knows that in order to make someone believe a lie, you have to believe it yourself.</p><p>"I did before I turned around. It all happened-"</p><p>"Fast? So fast that you don't know for sure?"</p><p>Veronica squints at her. "What are you doing? You promised me that you'd stop investigating!" She stands and shoves her away.</p><p>"You blew up a building," Heather says, beginning to count on her fingers. "You robbed a store, you killed somebody, you stole-"</p><p>"And where's your proof, detective?" Veronica raises an eyebrow, smirking. She crumples up the paper and tosses it over her shoulder. "Some random journalist who doesn't know what they saw?"</p><p>"I... I called the school. You were late- you and Jason both in the morning-"</p><p>"That has nothing to do with the stolen jewelry. The date it was written doesn't mean that was the day something happened." Veronica exhales, glaring. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of things." She steps back and crosses her arms. "Leave."</p><p>Heather doesn't move, her chest heavy and lips parted.</p><p>"I said, leave! Get out!"</p><p>This time, she leaves.</p><p>***<br/>"Mom?" Heather steps into a silent mansion. "I'm back." She closes and locks the front door behind her, walking upstairs slower than intended. Every day after school she expects her mother to be asleep or dead. She never knows which one until she sees her.</p><p>In the second story, three bedrooms surround a bathroom and office. A large white closet sits to her right as she makes her way to the back of the house. "Mom?" Nudging one of the doors open, she sighs. Not in relief, but in irritation. "Mom!"</p><p>Coralynn McNamara lays on the bed, spread out with her face on its side and her legs almost reaching the end of the bed. Her parents haven't slept in the same bed in months. A bottle of wine sits on the nightstand, empty. She sighs again and leaves the room to do homework.</p><p>An hour later, the door opens, startling her. "When the hell did you get home?"</p><p>"You were asleep," Heather answers calmly. "Like yesterday."</p><p>Her mom points at her. "Watch it."</p><p>"I tried to wake you up."</p><p>"Why didn't you? You should know by now, and I have crap I gotta work on. Is your dad home?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"What's for dinner?"</p><p>"I was going to make pasta or something."</p><p>"The hell are you waiting for? An invitation? Your bathroom ain't clean. What do you do here?"</p><p>"I had to do my homework." Heather can feel her composure failing.</p><p>"Well, get it cleaned. And then start on dinner. When your dad gets home you better have dropped this attitude."</p><p>"I don't have an attitude." She knows that she won't have it with her dad because her dad will barely have time to speak to her.</p><p>"You ever going to redecorate this place? Looks like a nursery, people must've told you that before."</p><p>"I thought you told me not to care what people say."</p><p>Coralynn slams her hand against the dresser. Strands of her curly blonde hair have fallen out of the ponytail resting on her shoulder. "Watch it, little girl. One of these times... I swear to the lord..."</p><p>"Okay, well, can I finish?" She looks at mom's wide eyes and flared nostrils.</p><p>"Don't be a bitch, Heather. And you wonder why all your friends are gone." With that, she slams the door. Heather swallows, letting tears run down her cheeks and fall onto the textbook in front of her. She gave up trying to please her mom months ago, just as she gave up on herself. </p><p>She goes down to make dinner a few minutes later. Her mom is drinking in front of the television when she walks in. They don't speak to one another as she gets out ingredients and begins making dinner. As she waits for the water to boil, Coralynn walks in and raises a brow, taking another bottle of wine off of a rack.</p><p>"What're you waitin' around for?"</p><p>"I'm waiting for the water-"</p><p>"Jesus, Heather. You've got to turn it higher-"</p><p>"Sorry. I told you I don't know how to cook-"</p><p>Coralynn turns and slaps her across the face, a red mark forming almost immediately. "Well, maybe if you didn't spend so much time getting wasted with people you call friends you'd know. And stop talking bad bout' yourself, I'm sick of it."</p><p>Heather stands in shock, rubbing her cheek with tears brimming her eyes.</p><p>"I swear to god if you start cryin'. Such a damn baby." She finishes pouring a cup of wine and shoves her to the side. "Finish up and clean the kitchen."</p><p>Heather finishes dinner and then runs out the door.</p><p>***<br/>She rubs her forearms with her hands, goosebumps covering every inch of exposed skin. Her tears mix with the rain, which starts up five minutes later. She walks with no destination in mind.</p><p>And somehow ends up on Veronica's doorstep.</p><p>"Heather?" Veronica opens the door, observing a wet and red-faced Mac.</p><p>"I didn't know where else to go."</p><p>***</p><p>Minutes later, Heather finds herself sitting on Veronica's bed, staring down at her lap. A hoodie that isn't hers now covers her arms and torso.</p><p>Veronica walks back in and hands her a mug of something, closing the door and then sitting down.</p><p>"Sorry," Mac sniffles. "I shouldn't be here."</p><p>"No, no, it's okay."</p><p>Heather sets the mug down and collapses in her arms, crying harder. "I can't go home but-"</p><p>"Want to stay here tonight?"</p><p>Heather's smile is her answer.</p><p>NEXT MORNING</p><p>"What do you want for breakfast?"</p><p>"You don't have to make me breakfast, Mac. Sometimes I want one piece of cheese and other times I want a five-course meal."</p><p>"What do you want today?" Heather flops down, her hair flying behind her. Veronica groans.</p><p>"I want to stay in bed. It's the weekend, why can't we just waste it?"</p><p>They're interrupted by the shrill sound of the downstairs phone ringing. Heather holds up her finger and runs downstairs, allowing Veronica to stay in bed.</p><p>When she enters again, her face is stone cold and her hands shake by her sides.</p><p>"What happened? Is someone...?"</p><p>"No. My dad was in a car crash this morning."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Twenty-Seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Okay, okay, calm down."</p><p>"C-calm down?!"</p><p>"Please, I can't feel my hand." Veronica pulls her hand away from Mac's and puts an arm around her shoulders instead as they enter a hospital building.</p><p>"What if he's dead?" Heather blurts. "Then I'd have to live with my mom... say goodbye to college. She gambles, and when she runs out of my dad's money she'll take it out of my savings account-"</p><p>"Mac. He isn't dead. And if that happens, you can live in my basement."</p><p>"But you don't have a basement."</p><p>"I'll build one. In and out, okay?" She pulls her closer and pulls a door open, entering a large room with chairs and counters. Heather gulps and sits down, waiting for her mom. Veronica tries to make small talk in the hope to comfort her but quickly runs out of things to say. Heather's anger has almost reached the brim when her mom walks in.</p><p>"Where have you been?" She jumps to her feet, giving her mother a cold look. "Do you know-"</p><p>"Not right now, Heather." Coralynn walks up to the counter as Heather clenches her fists by her sides. When Cora sits down, rubbing her temple, Veronica can't tear her eyes away. She's only seen Mac's mom on a few occasions but doesn't remember her looking this old and tired. She's pretty, she thinks. A lot like Heather, with the same curls and wide eyes with thick lashes. Unlike Heather, dark bags sit under them, and wrinkles paint her chin and forehead.</p><p>"Broken ribs and leg, some internal bleeding, but he'll be okay." She gives both girls a tight smile, folding her hands in her lap. Chipped pink gel polish seems to flash under the white lights. Heather notices she isn't wearing her wedding ring. Some days she doesn't and some days she does, but the days she doesn't seem to be the majority now.</p><p>"Veronica and I are going to walk around." She grabs her hand, pulling her down a hallway. "I think someone's targeting me," she says once her mom is out of earshot.</p><p>"Heather, that's a bit-"</p><p>"Think about it! Whoever killed Duke must want to kill me!"</p><p>"It was a car crash, not a stabbing or a shooting. Something could be wrong with the car, or it could have been an operator error... there are other possibilities." Veronica gives her a 'think about it' look, arching a brow and then nudging her.</p><p>"Yeah," She sniffles. They turn a corner, glancing at the posters telling you to wash your hands and what a good diet looks like. "But what if someone is targeting me?"</p><p>"Who would want to hurt you?"</p><p>Heather shakes her head. "I don't know."</p><p>They begin walking back to Heather's mom in silence. When they approach the room, she paces near the counter and then walks over to them.</p><p>"I just saw him. They're suspecting foul play." She gives another weak smile.</p><p>"What happened? What's wrong with the car?" Veronica asks. A million things run through her mind. Some of which she hopes aren't true.</p><p>Cora sighs, playing with a string attached to the pocket of her grey hoodie. Heather is almost embarrassed to have Veronica around her mom. "Someone cut the brakes."</p><p>"Oh." Heather turns to Veronica, her brow furrowed and a vacant look in her eye. "What do you think? He doesn't have work on Saturday... meaning-"</p><p>"Heather, no-"</p><p>"Maybe it's whoever sent the video!"</p><p>"Heather." Veronica takes both of her hands. "I'm going to go home, Okay? You can come over later, and if you need anything, call me. There are some things I have to do."</p><p>"Okay, Ronnie." They hug, tempted to kiss but resisting. Veronica runs out of the building and sits in the car.</p><p>There she begins to cry.</p><p>***<br/>THAT NIGHT</p><p>The figure moves towards the patch once again, prying the wooden board off of it to reveal another letter.</p><p>~</p><p>Business is business, as we both know. What happens in Sherwood stays in Sherwood. I beg you to take this not as defiance but something to take into consideration. You of all people know that people can change, and she is one of them. Maybe we don't have to do this. I have dreamt of the city for years, but I will be sacrificing a lot. I can't look away from the opportunity you provide, or the riches and the thrill.</p><p>I've had my suspicions and have hoped and prayed that they aren't true. If a life with me is what you want, I don't see how this interferes. We are not in love, I'll tell you that.</p><p>Desperate to get out of here, I am also curious about what life will contain after. It feels like a betrayal but I don't know who I am betraying. I've gotten you this far, and I must know, can you live on without me? You've done it all this time.</p><p>Are you sure you want a life with me?</p><p>Love, <br/>Gloria</p><p>~<br/>They laugh, folding up the letter and beginning to write a reply once they are seated on the front steps. ~</p><p>Darling Gloria,</p><p>It sounds you are having doubts. Life will be motels, hotels, and fake ID's. But it can still be bright, though we must remain in the shadows. You can make it on a stage, let the passion you've been burying free. No one will be there to doubt you. You can do whatever you like.</p><p>I've been waiting, Gloria. I apologize for the delays and for not being able to accept your deal. The fail is another obstacle that we will overcome. I'm going to get a better car and a reservation. You'll have nice things for once, I promise. I can't live without you, and I never planned to. The agreement has more layers than you think. Picture this: no more secrets because there will be no one to keep them from. No more pain. Yes, what we are doing to get there has that in it, but this is the last step.</p><p>This is what you want, Gloria. Think of the city lights and the fancy things revolving around simple love when you have doubts. Hold onto that.</p><p>I'll give you the money for the rest of the supplies once this is complete. Buy yourself a dress or something nice. We have to finish what we started here. Then we will forget about the hurt, about this town. There is so much I want to say. I need to see you again. A life with you is what I'll get and it's all I want. Things will be better. I'll be better for you, and so will the new surroundings.</p><p>I promise.</p><p>~ *~</p><p>The next night, they get their reply. ~</p><p>You would like me to do it? Why the change of mind? What I fail to see is why it's necessary. Our secrets are bound to catch up to us. I'll try to focus on the city, but that won't come easily. We have a lot to discuss. It's all begun to make sense. I'll be happy to put the past behind us. Is this what you've been planning since it first came upon the roof?</p><p>- Gloria</p><p>This time, they smirk as they write the reply. The sound of the ballpoint pen scratching against the paper is the only one to pierce the silent night.</p><p>My Dearest Gloria,</p><p>It will be easiest for you. I believe that you have what you need, and if not, you know where it is. Our secrets will catch up at some point, but that will not be soon. Especially after this. Don't think while you do it. Close your eyes if you have to, but don't miss. That night on the roof is when I got a lot of ideas. The foundation of the plan, I suppose. Keep in mind what you want and know that you know what's best for you. I know you, and I know that you can do this. When all is complete, we can work out times. I need to know that it's done, know that you aren't backing out. I'm afraid there's no backing out now.</p><p>For now, Gloria. For what we'll have.</p><p>***<br/>NEXT DAY</p><p>Veronica lies in bed, tears racing down the sides of her face as she stares at the ceiling. She cries for Martha, for Betty, for everything that's happened in these past months. But mostly, she cries for the thought that stands bigger than the rest, the one that now she has to face. She never thought she would, but now she feels cornered. In too deep is what she is. The destruction is waiting to explode, gasoline drenching everything she knows. It's as if she holds a lit match and stands on the edge of a diving board, ready to throw it onto the heap of her life and watch it burn. Her mind is a battlefield and a void of poison. She fears her thoughts will infect everything: her morals, her sanity. This was all an invisible ticking bomb, bound to explode at some point.</p><p> Now she has mere days to figure out how she's going to kill her best friend.</p>
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<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Twenty-Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Veronica awakens the next morning, the first thing she does is scream.</p><p>"When did you-"</p><p>"Morning!" Heather shouts, her voice containing too much glee for an exhausted Veronica to process. "Sorry to startle you, your mom let me in. I went to see my dad this morning, he's doing alright." She hugs her and then hops off the bed, her yellow shirt blinding Veronica. She rubs her eyes and sits up.</p><p>"Heather, why are you here? I love having you here," she adds when the other girl's face falls. "But... why this early?"</p><p>"I dunno. I didn't know where else to go, and I thought we'd go through some stuff today!"</p><p>She squints at her. "What do you mean?"</p><p>McNamara grins. "Well, we can go through your clothes, maybe go shopping for ones that will fit you better, and then I can clean your room while you lay down and rest!"</p><p>Veronica laughs, tilting her head and resting a hand on her stomach.</p><p>Something feels off.</p><p>"Why do you want to clean my room? It's a mess, I'd never see you again." She glances around at the piles of clothes, papers, and empty soda cans and books that litter every flat surface.</p><p>Heather shrugs. "I want to help." She sits down on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on top of Veronica's. "I know that the funeral is coming up-"</p><p>Something changes in Veronica's face. Something breaks. Mac notices for the first time how empty her eyes look, as if someone sucked all of the energy out of her. She stares through everything instead of looking at it, blinking on occasion and then letting her eyes well up with tears. It happens now, the painful energy in her chest making her feel sick as her throat closes up and her mouth goes dry.</p><p>"Ronnie. Want to talk?"</p><p>She shakes her head no, not acknowledging the hand on top of hers. Neither know what to say, so they say nothing at all. Heather keeps her hand there until she pulls away, standing up and beginning to regain composure.</p><p>"Need any help with homework?"</p><p>***<br/>As they lay on their stomachs with books and papers around them, Veronica can't keep her mind- and eyes- off of the girl in front of her. The one she has to kill.</p><p>Business doesn't run smoothly when an emotional attachment is involved. The consequences are esoteric and bittersweet. A lifetime of happiness- or pain. Freedom. But is it what she wants? A manipulation- induced haze lays over everything she knows.</p><p>Greed. It seems to show up wherever she turns, desire that plunges you into what you expect to be waters of bliss. But it always comes with a price. Sometimes it's time, sometimes your life. Passion and desire are a ticking bomb. So are lies. She lives on a mine field, barely dodging an explosion with each conversation. Her secrets of the past have infected the present, ensnaring her in her own doing.</p><p>"Want to sleep over?" Veronica asks before she can back out. She prays that her nerves aren't visible in her eyes.</p><p>Heather gives her a bright smile. "Sure." It takes everything in Veronica not to wince, not to scream into a pillow and weep in her arms for the rest of the night. Her eyes are bright with life, with curiosity and a secret hope to become a fashion designer and move somewhere with Veronica. One of the same hopes Veronica has.</p><p>Not only does Heather hold an innocence that Veronica envies, but one she wants to protect. Her heart battles her mind on the daily, memories and secrets not doing anything to cease the emotional combat. She pictures how the night will go; picking up a gun thinking nothing can deter her only to throw it down and walk away with shaking hands. It makes her want to hold Mac close and never let go. She longs to protect her but the feeling is rife with anxiety. How can she protect her when she's the one she needs protecting from?</p><p>Will the same thing happen that happened after the death of Chandler? Will people venerate her, worship her? Heather Chandler was the paradigm of hidden evil according to Westerburg. Yet she was still celebrated.</p><p>Veronica regrets kissing Heather. Heather, who remains unaware of the stakes and confused. A slice of anger runs through her at questions.</p><p>I'm trying to protect you, she wants to scream. If only Heather heard her invisible cries for her to leave, to run far away and never look back on Sherwood or Veronica. Sure, she'd lose love, but staying may cost her her life.</p><p>"Earth to Veronica."</p><p>"Hmm?" Veronica looks up to see Heather waving in front of her face. "Uh, Yeah... go on."</p><p>Heather begins to read again. She squints when reaching hard words and tilts her head at ones she doesn't recognize, licking her lips when she pauses to take a breath before continuing. Oblivious to the war in Veronica's mind or the way her heart shatters every time Mac smiles.</p><p>How is she supposed to take that smile? How is she supposed to watch her die? No one is here to trick her this time, no one to make sure she remains oblivious as she steals a life.</p><p>"Veronica!"</p><p>"Y-yeah?"</p><p>Heather sighs. "Want to take a break? You keep zoning out."</p><p>You would be too, she thinks. If you knew.</p><p>"Okay." She sits up, her eyes still on Heather. She notes how careful her movements are, how she sets everything down gently and keeps neat. I don't deserve her.</p><p>She recalls something her boyfriend told her: "Some things work better if you don't think about it. Murder," he took his gloves off and threw them on the bed. "Happens to be one of those things."</p><p>But her thoughts hit her at full speed, attacking before she can brace herself for the impact of the pain. That night as Heather sleeps, curled up in a ball with her hair spread out around her as she clutches one of Veronica's old stuffed animals, Veronica sits on the edge of the bed.</p><p>A gun sits in her lap.</p><p>~</p><p>Black on black. A young woman's attire doesn't stand out against the night, much to her relief. She carries a single bag, her heels clicking against the sidewalk. The sound of a train echoes in the silence, filling her with enthusiasm. Inspiration. Cold breeze leaves goosebumps down her bare arms, the thin straps of a skin-tight black dress doing little to protect her from the chill. Seeing how stunning it makes her look was enough for her to walk out the door without another thought. Her jacket is folded in her bag under the rest of her clothes and jewelry.</p><p>Continuing past houses next to the empty street, she flattens her hair, wild and neat at the same time from natural wave and the breeze. She presses her lips together, trying not to smile from rising bliss. She shouldn't be happy. But what if this is good? What if things only get better from here?</p><p>They have to. It's what she has now, what she chose. A few streets down she stops, pacing in front of a bench and bus stop. The edges of her hair blow in the wind, ticking the bare skin on her back and shoulders. She moves so that she isn't under the streetlight, the dark still serving as protection from any awakened threats.</p><p>She can't help but grin, her lips a light red and cheeks pink from makeup and the cold. She closes her eyes for a second, a smile still tugging at her lips. It's only when a stronger breeze hits her does she open them. Straightening her posture, she walks towards a black car parked in front of her, throwing a bag into the back seat and then opening the passenger door.</p><p>"Gloria. Excited, I see?"</p><p>"How could I not be?" She slides into the seat and closes the door. "Hello, Jason."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Twenty-Nine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One shot.</p><p>One shot is all it would take. No more Heathers. No more queen bees, no more leaders or drama or pain. Veronica picks up the gun, her hand shaking so much it almost falls.</p><p>Why is it so hard this time?</p><p>It feels good to be in control for once. The Heathers always have been, but now she stands over her with control of more than what she wears and what she does. A whole life lays at the other end of the gun, a ball of hopes and sunshine.</p><p>What if she's going this for nothing? What if later she decides that it wasn't necessary? All of her friends are dead, and she's taking the only thing she has left away from herself.</p><p>Go ahead, darling.</p><p>Her hands shake harder, her chin and mouth trembling as she takes a deep breath. I'm so sorry, Heather, she thinks. I have to.</p><p>Veronica raises the gun.</p><p>~*~</p><p>"I hate you, god, I hate you- get away from me!"</p><p>"Christ, Gloria. We already talked about-"</p><p>"I hate you," she mumbles, trying to pull from his grip on her wrist.</p><p>"That's not going to get you anywhere except dead."</p><p>Now she gets closer, rage rising and misery surfacing after days of burying it. "You want to kill me? Go ahead, do it! Do it, get the damn gun and shoot me, you sick bastard!"</p><p>His hand connects with her face, now wet with tears. What he didn't expect was her to hit him back. He needs to know that she won't leave, that she won't tell or ruin things.</p><p>"Let me go, let me go!" She sobs, pinned against the wall. He slaps her again.</p><p>"Listen to me. Everything that I've done is to protect you-"</p><p>"That's crap and you know it!" She begins to struggle against him again, managing to get a few steps away before he grabs her again. She hits him hard enough to make the room spin. She takes the opportunity to try to run, only for him to grab her by the waist and throw her against the wall. "I w-won't go to them-" her voice wobbles no matter how hard she tries to keep steady and calm. "I won't leave."</p><p>He kneels down next to the panting girl, putting a hand on top of hers only for her to slap it away.</p><p>"Don't touch me."</p><p>He sighs and stands, the door slamming seconds later. She hears the door lock and leans against the wall for support, walking over to the mirror and running her finger over the bruise on her cheek. A red mark wraps around her wrist, another welt on her chin. Nothing makeup won't fix.</p><p>She struggles to keep her tears at bay as she dabs concealer over her face. He's probably out getting them money, helping them live in all the wrong ways. His distrust in her is scathing.</p><p>Things will be better tomorrow, she thinks, applying a layer of red lipstick. It's what she always thinks.</p><p>What it never does is happen.</p><p>~*~</p><p>Veronica drops the gun, collapsing on her knees with her hands on the edge of the bed. The voices in her head collide; JD's and hers and thoughts she never knew she'd ever want to give in to.</p><p>Do it. She deserves it.</p><p>Does she deserve it? She bullied Martha. She spread rumors about Veronica in freshman year and she was a straight up bitch sometimes. But should that cost her her life? </p><p>They all deserve to die.</p><p>Come on, Veronica. Pick up the gun. It's in you, it's in everybody.</p><p>Shut up. Get out of my head.</p><p>She looks up to see another face. "What are you doing?"</p><p>"Heather- I'm sorry," she sobs. The ghost glides closer to her.</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"I can't say." She tightens her grip on the gun.</p><p>Heather snorts. "Like I can tell anybody."</p><p>"It's complicated. But I have to, and I'm sorry."</p><p>"You don't have to, and you don't want to."</p><p>You want this. Think of what you'll have after, remember what we said.</p><p>Chandler's words run through her mind. She doesn't want to, but she has to. She'll have to live with it no matter how much she has to distract herself. It will always be in the back of her mind. Heather trusted her, confided in her. And she killed her.</p><p>"She'll remember it, you know. That her own best friend killed her." There's a layer of hurt in her words, a passive-aggressiveness that Veronica can sense that runs deeper than she thought. "Don't do this to her."</p><p>After five more minutes of shaking, Veronica drops the gun. Chandler disappears as she curls up and cries, weeping for all of them. Eventually, she pulls herself up to the bed and shakes Mac awake.</p><p>"Ronnie? What's-" the sobbing girl falls into her arms. Her eyes widen, sleep fading away as she pulls her into a hug. "What's wrong? What happened?"</p><p>Veronica doesn't stop crying for hours, not giving any context. Heather holds her until she stops, stroking her hair and occasionally whispering words of comfort. At almost four AM, Veronica is close to sleep and Heather is still holding her against her chest. Veronica can hear her heartbeat, contributing to her urge to fall asleep.</p><p>"Heather?" She stirs, letting her eyes close all the way and sniffling.</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>Veronica lets herself drift off, asleep seconds after her words. "I love you."</p><p>*~*</p><p>Gloria pours champagne into a glass and sits on the bed, crossing her legs. Minutes later, someone emerges from another room, sitting next to her. She sets the glass on the nightstand and takes out a cigarette instead, lighting it and walking over to the window.</p><p>"Gloria."</p><p>She doesn't answer, stepping out onto the balcony and looking down at the city. Tears spill over, racing down her cheeks. People would die for this, why isn't she happy? She deserves worse than this. Much, much worse.</p><p>The sliding door opens behind her. An arm slips around her waist, someone pressing a kiss to her cheek.</p><p>"Come inside, you're freezing."</p><p>She hasn't felt the cold, too numb to notice. Extinguishing her cigarette, she wipes her eyes and follows him inside. He pulls her onto his lap, sitting on the bed and letting her curl up with her head on his chest.</p><p>"I love you, you know that."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>He brushes hair out of her face. "Why do you look miserable?"</p><p>I am. "I'm not," she replies. "I'm just getting used to things." He kisses her cheek again, his lips lingering for a second. She lets her eyes fall shut. "It's different."</p><p>"It is. Do you miss them?"</p><p>She opens her eyes again. "Honestly, sometimes."</p><p>"Do you miss her?"</p><p>She pulls her hand away gently. "Jason-" At a loss for words, she looks away, her pain ineffable. He takes her hand again. "Let's go to bed," she says, standing. "Early day tomorrow."</p><p>Just like every day. It's supposed to be a thrill, but by now it's always the same.</p><p>She curls up next to him and cries herself to sleep.</p><p>~*~</p>
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<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Thirty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I made breakfast!" Heather announces, shoving a plate of pancakes in front of Veronica.</p><p>"Woah, thanks-"</p><p>"No problem!" She gives her such a big smile that it makes her uneasy. Veronica can't tell if it's pity or just Heather's cheerful nature. She eyes the clock. Definitely pity.</p><p>"So... how do you feel?"</p><p>Veronica shoves food in her mouth so that she doesn't have to answer. Her eyes are on fire after last night, barely open and puffy.</p><p>"Well," Heather says when she fails to answer. "Enjoy. I'm going to go get dressed, mind if I borrow clothes?"</p><p>Veronica waves permission and listens to Heather skip to her room.</p><p>~*~</p><p>Gloria makes her way through the crowd, pushing past warm, dancing bodies and trying not to spill her drink. She has no idea where Jason went, and the music is too loud to call for him. If she were completely honest, she'd tell you that she's avoiding him. She isn't ready to leave Chicago just yet.</p><p>There is no planting roots with this lifestyle, it only makes it harder to leave. She isn't planting roots according to what she tells herself. She's merely enjoying the moment. Making her way across the room, she finds herself on a dance floor, girls smiling at her and one of them grabbing her arm. The music seems to grow louder. Someone shouts something in her direction, a compliment on the tight red dress she's wearing, but she can't determine who it came from. What's it matter? She'll never see these people again.</p><p>It's when you think that things can't get higher when they start looking down. She isn't ready for that, she decides, taking another sip of her drink. Things are good. It's refreshing, a relief to her taste buds and body after living off of gas station and hotel food for the last few days.</p><p>She'll leave the club a little bit drunk and high off of the city lights, energized by excitement. She'll go back to the hotel room with a cigarette between her teeth and stare at the city some more before falling into silky sheets and dreaming about everything. She'll still feel the heat and hear the music in her mind, even in sleep. Joy in a sea of misery is overwhelming.</p><p>She can hope that it lasts.</p><p>***</p><p>Heather doesn't go for the dresser or closet. She begins rummaging through the desk instead, finding that everything has been moved around. She lifts up pillows and looks under the bed and in the nightstand for her diary but finds nothing. It may contain an explanation about last night or something even better.</p><p>She eventually turns to the closet. A white cabinet sits next to a file cabinet, the edges of shirts and dresses brushing the top of it. She doesn't know where to start. Walking over to the door, she locks it and kneels down in front of the closet. She starts with the third drawer of the file cabinet because it's the closest. Several folders sit in the bottom, different colors and different labels. The first one is labeled "school," the second one "drawings/stories." The third doesn't have a label, but the word "confidential" written in sharpie. Score.</p><p>"Heather?" Veronica tries to turn the knob.</p><p>"Uh... I'm changing," Heather shouts, praying that she'll go away.</p><p>There's a muffled "okay" from the other side of the door, causing her to sigh in relief and open the folder. She finds herself staring at one of the newspaper articles she read about in the library. Behind it is another one. Words are circled, sentences highlighted and some with notes written in blue pen. Behind it is a page of what looks to be a script.</p><p>FADE IN. INT. DAY.</p><p>VERONICA SAYWER, a high school student and seventeen year old, sits across from the camera at a table. She has fair skin, brown hair, and blue eyes. She shifts, folding her hands on the table in front of her.</p><p>OFFICER (O.S)</p><p>Start when you're ready.</p><p>VERONICA</p><p>Uh... hi, I'm Veronica. I was with my boyfriend when we- we stopped in the store to get coffee after we got gas. He was-</p><p>OFFICER (O.S)</p><p>Jake Atwood?</p><p>VERONICA</p><p>(nervous)</p><p>Yeah. Yeah, he waved at us when we walked in. Anyways, we were looking around and went to pay for our coffee and when we were walking back out...</p><p>Veronica falls silent and stares off, her lips pressed together and tears brimming her eyes.</p><p>OFFICER (O.S)</p><p>That's when he pulled out a gun?</p><p>Tears spill over, rolling down Veronica's cheeks. She clears her throat and nods.</p><p>VERONICA</p><p>We turned back around... I heard him call goodbye but it sounded... off. Sad. I saw him set the gun on the counter... I couldn't move.</p><p>OFFICER</p><p>You were scared?</p><p>VERONICA</p><p>(crying)</p><p>Yeah, but I wasn't... I was surprised. It took me by surprise, it really did. </p><p>The script ends there. A green sticky note is under it, two different types of handwriting across it.</p><p>- Ms. Flemming almost caught me. Will this work? Are you sure this is necessary?</p><p>- Woah. If you can do it on camera, you can do it for the cops. Worst case scenario, of course.</p><p>-  If they see us, we're suspects. Will we have to testify?</p><p>- If they see us, then possibly as eyewitnessess.</p><p>- dammit. Plan at 3?</p><p>- Meet you at the spot.</p><p>Heather puts the papers back. It had to be JD she was talking to, who else would she talk to about something like that? Why was she making a plan for the cops?</p><p>A photo falls out, one of him and her in front of the window, daylight shining through. It shows most of both of their shirts, slightly out of focus and crooked. Neither give much of a smile. She flips it over to read the date.</p><p>Wait.</p><p>Digging through the papers, she pulls out the newspaper article again. It was taken that day. Posed, she decides. But why?</p><p>"Heather, are you still changing?"</p><p>Veronica's voice causes her to jump back. "Y-yeah! Looking for a shirt, the other one didn't fit me."</p><p>"Uh... okay..."</p><p>The answer hits Heather when she takes out the final paper, a draft of what Veronica claimed happened on the day that Jake "killed himself."</p><p>They were building an alibi.</p><p>She shoves the folder back in and opens the next drawer. Gloves. A bottle of pills. A few bracelets that look much too expensive for a seventeen-year-old to buy. A chocolate bar. </p><p>An engagement ring.</p><p>She sets the objects back in the drawer one by one, a blanket of shock still covering her. A brown box sits on the left side of the cabinet, photos taped to the top. She opens it with shaking hands, not knowing what to expect.</p><p>"Heather, I'm coming in."  Veronica grabs a bobby pin from the bathroom and jiggles it around in the lock, listening for the click and then pushing the door open.</p><p>She doesn't speak even when Veronica walks in, the color draining out of her face. She's too busy absorbing words and exhaling curiosity. Confusion.</p><p>"Heather, what are you-"</p><p>"Ronnie?" She looks up from a letter. "Who's Gloria?"</p>
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<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Thirty-One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Heather. Put them down."</p><p>"But-"</p><p>"Put them down!"</p><p>She drops the letter, getting to her feet. Veronica looks her over. She's still in pajamas, meaning she must have gone through even more. Her rage rises with every breath.</p><p>"Who's are they? Why are they written like this is 19th century England? Who-"</p><p>"Heather," Veronica speaks, her voice a warning. "Sit down."</p><p>She sits. "Now can you answer me?"</p><p>Veronica sits down next to her. "What were you doing?" She asks calmly. "I won't be mad."</p><p>"I saw an engagement ring and a script, and... you two killed that man, right? And you were building an alibi with-"</p><p>"How many times are you going to go through my things?!"</p><p>"How many things are you going to hide? You never tell me anything, and I got worried about you!"</p><p>"Then talk to me, don't lie to me!"</p><p>"You never want to talk about it!" Heather shouts. "And you've lied about so many things."</p><p>"I've told you more than I've told everybody else-"</p><p>"Because I found out myself and you didn't have a choice," Heather retorts. She holds up a key that had an address attached, testing if she'll tell the truth. "Where's this to?"</p><p>"It... it's a key to JD's aunt's apartment that he gave me a long time ago in case I need somewhere to go or something happens and we're-"</p><p>"Who's Gloria?"</p><p>Veronica gathers the letters and tosses them on the desk. "You should leave."</p><p>"No."</p><p>"No?"</p><p>"I want to help you," she pleads, standing and putting a hand on her arm.</p><p>"You can't help me!"</p><p>"Ronnie, What time is your mom going to be home today?"</p><p>"I-I dunno... why?!" Everything Veronica has done this year runs through her mind. Stupid love. Heather knows much more than she should. But what's that matter, she has to kill her anyway. Her stomach lurches at the thought.</p><p>"I'm not going to tell." Each question triggers ten more. Who's Gloria? Who are the letters from? Why were JD and her stealing jewelry and robbing stores? Why kill that man? Is there another reason she lied about the pregnancy? Is there someone else she can ask?</p><p>"Good. Do you know how you can help me? Stay out of it."</p><p>"I can't!-"</p><p>"You very well could have," Veronica snaps. "But you want your answers, and instead of asking me, you go behind my back-"</p><p>"You can't take this personally, Veronica. Any normal person would want to know if something here will explain things."</p><p>"No." Veronica rubs her temple and takes a deep breath, a ball of fury still residing in her chest. "Just... go. Go visit your dad, go home, I don't care. Just go."</p><p>The door opens across the house, and Heather hears Veronica's mom set something down. Veronica still stares at her with a look that makes her shift from foot to foot, wondering how badly she messed up. Heather runs to the kitchen, stopping Mrs. Sawyer in her tracks.</p><p>"Hi, Uh, can we talk? I'm worried about Veronica and I think she needs help after everything that's happened, and her ex-boyfriend manipulated her and then she-"</p><p>"Maybe we should sit down."</p><p>"Y-Yeah, we should. Ronnie! Come sit down with us!"</p><p>Veronica appears in the doorway, her knuckles white and her nails digging into her palms. She sits down, shoulders tense and eyes giving them a cold stare.</p><p>"So... Veronica, want me to start?" She begins talking before she can answer. "Anyways, Veronica's been writing letters to someone, I don't know who, and I think it's a coping mechanism after JD died-"</p><p>"Woah, Woah, who said-"</p><p>"And she's really depressed, and I found a suicide note in her jewelry box. She took Betty and Martha's deaths pretty hard, and the pregnancy hormones are only making things worse." Heather smiles, looking at a dazed Mrs. Sawyer and an embarrassed and irritated Veronica. In truth, Veronica's holding her breath, praying that Heather won't spill something about Chandler or the crimes. Or the engagement ring. Or anything, really.</p><p>"She's exaggerating. Of course, I'm sad, my best friends died. But I'm not like... in desperate need of help like she's saying."</p><p>"So you're writing letters to JD?" Her mom questions.</p><p>"No, they aren't to anybody. I'm just lonely, it feels good to read something and pretend it's for me." The lie slides off easily, the taste of success lingering on her tongue.</p><p>"I see."</p><p>Veronica runs her fingers through her hair, wishing to take back the last five minutes.</p><p>She regrets it, even more, when she finds herself in therapy the next day. How did she even find someone this quickly? She's almost positive that her mother went with the very first name she saw. Heather decided to tag along much to Veronica's relief, just for the first session for the first few minutes when her mom is in the room.</p><p>Finally, they both leave. Veronica doesn't know if she should be even more nervous or relieved.</p><p>"...And they say you've been zoning out a lot." Sarah Jones folds her hands, tilting her head at Veronica. She can't decide if she's taciturn or merely quiet.</p><p>"I like to daydream," Veronica answers vaguely, circumspect and careful. Each word has been rehearsed in her mind so far.</p><p>"Yeah? What do you like to daydream about?"</p><p>"What things would have been like... if we had left. If the October incident didn't happen and if we had run away."</p><p>Sarah nods.</p><p>"Things could have been good. But... they also could have been really bad. I don't know if I would have been miserable or happy or..." she trails off, fiddling with the edge of her sweater.</p><p>It's the first truth she's told in a while.</p><p>"And your friend mentioned letters... you go by Gloria in them?"</p><p>"That's what I'd go by if it had... happened."</p><p>"Like an alias?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"And why do you think these letters concern your friend so much?" She tilts her head again, hoping she'll augment what she tells her about the topic.</p><p>"I don't know... she gets curious. She thinks it has something to do with JD or something," Veronica shrugs. "It doesn't," she adds before Sarah can ask.</p><p>"Alright..."</p><p>When Veronica exits the room, her mother is waiting and Heather is gone.</p><p>"I dropped her off at our house, I had to run by and do some errands."</p><p>This sends off an alarm in Veronica's mind. Is she going through more of her things? She takes a breath and walks to the car.</p><p>***</p><p>Heather lays on her stomach, various letters strewn across the floor around her. She analyzes them one by one, struggling to piece it all together.</p><p>What unfinished business are they talking about? Why are they written so formally? She holds a gut feeling that it's more than letters to nobody.</p><p>Whoever this mystery person is, they're planning something with Veronica. After Veronica finishes this "unfinished business," they're leaving Sherwood and going to the city. They make it sound like they're on the run, talking about motels and dates and times.</p><p>You don't plan things like this with yourself.</p><p>She pulls out a piece of paper with the address on it.</p><p>Walked back home real quick, she scribbles on a notepad, leaving it for Veronica and then running home. Fortunately, her mom is home, meaning the car resides in the driveway, waiting to be used. She glances at the paper again.</p><p>If Veronica won't give her answers, she'll have to find them herself.</p><p>***</p><p>"Veronica! We need to talk!" Heather pants, bursting into Veronica's room. "I went to his aunt's house, and there were two women there, and they told me-"</p><p>Veronica looks up, her eyes widening. "What?! Why would you go there?"</p><p>"Sorry. We need-"</p><p>"Give me the address."</p><p>Heather hands her the paper and then grabs her arm. "They told me something. We need to talk!"</p><p>"Later." Veronica pushes past her and runs out the door, ready to fix whatever Heather did. As she drives, she thinks of how this could benefit her. She thinks about everything, therapy, Heather, the letters. How much she hates Heather McNamara.</p><p>Heather makes her stomach twist with guilt. Guilt is the enemy. It's what gets you caught.</p><p>She's already on overdrive with stress, knowing she has to act fast before someone- before Heather- gets hurt. But she can't bring herself to pick up the gun.</p><p>It's no longer a matter of what she wants. She's wasted too much time thinking and now she has to act. An idea blossoms in her mind as she pulls into the driveway of an apartment building almost an hour later.</p><p>What am I even doing here?</p><p>She knocks twice, shifting her weight from foot to foot. A wave of nerves washes her, giving her the urge to turn and run. A million questions follow the urge. Is her outfit too casual? Will she even want to see me? Does she blame me? The last one makes her blink back tears. She can't take any more guilt.</p><p>The door opens, and a woman who looks to be in her thirties stands with an open mouth. It's like looking at a female version of Jason Dean. Same facial structure, same eyes. Her hair, falling past her shoulders with natural waves, is a deep black. Her eyes fill with tears as she looks Veronica over.</p><p>"Veronica, Right?" She smiles again, her thin lips turning up and making Veronica want to cry as well. She takes Veronica's hand, taking her by surprise. "Oh, they told me you were real pretty."</p><p>She opens the door wider, revealing another woman, one who looks almost identical to her but with deep brown hair and wrinkles of age around her mouth and eyes.</p><p>"Let her in, Kaitlyn."</p><p>Veronica freezes.</p><p>"Holy crap," she mumbles, shock evident on her face. Her hands unclench and fall from her pockets. Heather's words replay in her mind. Two women. Why would there be two?</p><p>Veronica thought she would find a woman she could make small talk with, discreetly ask what Heather told her, and walk out. But the presence of the person in front of her makes her conclude that there won't be small talk this afternoon.</p><p>"Come in," Kaitlyn says, motioning inside.</p><p>Veronica follows her JD's mother into the apartment.</p><p>A/N: Clarification!</p><p>Gloria, those parts about her and Jason, were daydreams. Notice how I always put them under a part about Veronica, not heather, and at a place where it would be easy for Veronica to zone out.</p><p>But the letters are real... meaning there's something going on.</p>
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<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Thirty-Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Go ahead and sit down."</p><p>Veronica seats herself, observing her surroundings as Kaitlyn whispers something to the other woman. She sinks down into the couch, leaning back against a white throw pillow. A cloud of steam comes from a mug of tea placed on the glass table in front of her. Kaitlyn moves magazines out of the way and sits down next to Veronica.</p><p>"As you know, I'm Kaitlyn, and this is Nancy." She gestures to the other woman, who sits down on a lounge chair across from them.</p><p>"Y-you're supposed to be... but..."</p><p>"I know," Kaitlyn says. "We have a lot of explaining to do." She puts a hand on top of Veronica's. "Your beautiful, you truly are."</p><p>"Thanks..." Veronica can't look her in the eye. All she can see is him.</p><p>"Your friend... Heather... she came by not too long ago. Sweet girl."</p><p>"Heather? What did she want?"</p><p>Kaitlyn smiles. "She had questions."</p><p>"O-oh." Questions are another thing that get you caught. "I'm sorry."</p><p>"Don't be," she says, waving it off.</p><p>"So uh... how? How are you here? I don't get it." Veronica lets out a nervous laugh. Nancy looks from her younger sister to her. Something passes between them, a silent exchanging using only eyes. Something big, Veronica decides, happened. It makes her swallow, a pressure on her chest she didn't notice before.</p><p>"I've been living in Connecticut for the past few weeks. I was in Madison and Boston for a bit before."</p><p>Veronica runs this over in her mind. "Wait, but..." her brow furrows as she squints at Kaitlyn. "Could you start from the beginning?"</p><p>Nancy chuckles, propping her chin upon her hand, her elbow resting on her knee. Kaitlyn takes Veronica's hand. The motherly instinct in her acts before her mind can catch up. She needs someone, it tells her. She can see in Veronica's face that there's a pain inside of her draining her of love, and her dull eyes make her heartbreak. She's longing for love. She needs somebody.</p><p>Kaitlyn takes a deep breath, brushing a strand of hair out of her face with her unoccupied hand. "I managed to get out of the building before it collapsed. I still have burns, and my lungs will forever hate me, but I lived." She cracks a smile though on the verge of tears. The smile fades when she continues. "Bud wouldn't let Jason see me in the hospital. He came to visit a few times but kept him at home." Now she sniffles, squeezing Veronica's hand. The coolness of a ring presses against her skin, giving her something to focus on.</p><p>"Anyways, by then he knew I was suicidal..." her eyes dart to the couch to her sister to her unpainted nails. "He filed for divorce, said I wasn't fit to raise a kid. I thought that would be it."</p><p>"It wasn't?" Veronica guesses, watching tears blossom in her wide eyes, filled with curiosity and passion with a depth that makes you want to keep your eyes on her. There's a liveliness in the way she can't sit still for long, in how her hands are always doing something and how big her eyes get when she's ecstatic. A liveliness that she had to learn to gain back over the years.</p><p>"Nope," Kaitlyn sighs. "Not even close." She sniffles, shifting. Veronica bites her lip, trying to process these last few minutes. She lived. She eyes Kaitlyn's long sleeves and wonders where the burns are if and if she looks at them and shudders or covers them up as quickly as possible. She wonders if they make her feel ugly or strong or a little bit of both.</p><p>"His drinking was getting worse. He kept threatening me if I told that to the court, and told me he'd take full custody." A tear rolls down her cheek, her eyelashes long and wet without a speck of mascara. Everything about her seems natural, from her hair to her lips to her eyes, the type of girl who threw on some chapstick and ran her fingers through her hair before running out the door, filled with enough energy to last her through summer bike rides into the afternoon and hikes downtown to get ice cream. She wipes her eyes and blinks a few times.</p><p>"I knew I wouldn't win, and he was right. I wasn't fit for being a mom, but I was beginning to doubt he was fit to be a parent either."</p><p>If only you knew, Veronica thinks.</p><p>"So we divorced and I moved away... he told Jason that I died and I don't know if he believed it-"</p><p>"They had a tribute for you at their house," Veronica says. "He didn't tell me much..."</p><p>Kaitlyn nods, more tears streaming down. "I felt like I didn't have a choice, and I knew I wouldn't win in court... I know what it's like to be in the middle of a custody battle, treated like some kind of chew toy." She bites her lip, her chin trembling. "I couldn't do that to him."</p><p>"So you did this instead?" The anger in Veronica's voice takes her by surprise. Nancy excuses herself, giving her sister a reassuring smile before exiting the room.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You don't forget watching someone die!" Veronica shouts, beginning to cry too. "You weren't there," she spits through gritted teeth. "You're weak, I hope you know that. You don't care what you did to him-"</p><p>"Veronica, believe me, I know that-"</p><p>"You don't!" She slams her hand against the side of the couch, blinded by misery and the rising fury. "You didn't deal with the nightmares, you didn't have to convince him that it isn't worth doing the same thing his damn mother did. You don't know! And now..." she doubles over sobbing, one hand on her stomach and the other still squeezing Kaitlyn's.</p><p>The realization hits her like a truck. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"</p><p>"It's okay." Kaitlyn pulls her closer as she curls up, letting her lay her head on her lap as she strokes her hair. "It's okay. You have to have hope, Veronica."</p><p>"I gave up a long time ago." She curls up smaller, craving touch and the motherly affection she didn't realize she's been lacking. Tears roll down her cheeks and into her ears, clouding her vision. "I got sick of waiting for him. He's not coming back."</p><p>Kaitlyn rubs her back as she squeezes her eyes shut. "Honey, especially with the baby-"</p><p>"Who told you?"</p><p>"Heather mentioned it," she sniffles. "If he comes back for anyone it would be you."</p><p>"What if it's because I'm pregnant? What if that's why..." Veronica chokes on a rising sob.</p><p>"No, no-no. It's not because of you-"</p><p>"I miss having somebody," she whispers, listening to Kaitlyn's heartbeat and sniffles, both muffled. "I miss waking up next to somebody, and I just kept hoping that I'd wake up to that again, that I'd have somebody again..."</p><p>"Veronica, this isn't your fault." Kaitlyn can feel loneliness coming off of her in waves and a confused rage. She's grasping for something, for peace. For closure. There's something familiar about Veronica, something comforting that reminds herself.</p><p>"I-I know..." Veronica stands, wiping her nose and eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry. I should go, Heather's waiting for me." What has Heather gotten into this time?</p><p>"I'll be here for the next few weeks. You'll always have a home here." Kaitlyn stands as well, pulling Veronica into a long hug before finally letting her go.</p><p>"Thank you... bye!" She calls to Nancy before waving at Kaitlyn and stepping out. She didn't reach most of the questions about Heather, but it doesn't matter. Nothing will matter soon.</p><p>She blinks quickly, trying to dry her tears as she walks into the sunlight and then starts the car. Days. Days are all she has left.</p><p>Heather McNamara was never part of the plan. She's merely a complication and a beautiful one. Emotions aside, Veronica thinks, practically, I know what I need to do.</p><p>She can only pray it will work.</p><p>When she runs up to her room, Heather is seated on her bed, playing with her hands. A single piece of paper sits next to her, and items lay on the carpet neatly. She smiles when Veronica walks in, but it fades when she gets closer.</p><p>"Don't touch me."</p><p>Veronica laughs. "What?"</p><p>"Why do you have drafts of Duke's suicide note?"</p>
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<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Thirty-Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Heather, I can-"</p><p>"Get away from me!"</p><p>Veronica sighs. "I didn't kill her if that's what you're getting at."</p><p>"I don't believe you." Heather jumps to her feet, taking a tentative step closer. "You lied. He's missing, Veronica. Not dead. There was no funeral, there's no grave, you lied!" She thinks about the times Veronica claimed to be getting back from a grave and the day she got back from the funeral that didn't actually happen. She wasn't crying, but she was dressed in black.</p><p>"Heather-"</p><p>"And now this?!" She waves at the note. "You killed her, didn't you?! Oh god, you killed her!"</p><p>"I didn't kill her! I was with you when-"</p><p>"You could have done it before that. Or sometime when I was asleep. You killed Chandler, and-" the color drains out of her face. "Did you kill Betty and Martha, too? Oh, god!"</p><p>"I didn't kill them!" Veronica pleads through gritted teeth. "I swear, and why would I kill my best friends?"</p><p>"Why did you lie?"</p><p>"Mac..." The memory washes over Veronica when she leaned against the wall next to her boyfriend with malevolent thoughts running through her mind behind her tear-filled eyes.</p><p>"I wish she were dead." She rolls an unlit cigarette between her fingers, her anger tempting her to crush it along with everyone that she has. "God, I wish she'd just die!" She craves the feeling of a gun in her hand. Or a knife. Something she shouldn't have, something that scares her to want. "I think we killed the wrong Heather," she mumbles, lighting her cigarette and then his.</p><p>"We could fix that."</p><p>"I wish," she sighs. "Goddamn, she has everything. And she tries to make us feel bad for her, and people keep telling me how sweet she is-"</p><p>"She's a wannabe Chandler, what'd you expect?"</p><p>Veronica tries to exhale her anger, her tears of frustration beginning to dry. He's right, what did she expect? That she wouldn't try to take over the second that Chandler left? The rumors have only gotten worse, whispering about her at lunch and scribbling names onto notes. Middle school games, she thinks. Why she bothers with it is beyond her.</p><p>JD can tell she's close to snapping.</p><p>Veronica pulls her diary out of her bag, uncapping a pen with her teeth and beginning to scribble her anger onto the page. It comes out in the form of Duke's suicide note.</p><p>Smirking, she lifts the book to show JD, who raises a brow and matches her smirk. Something passes between without a word being said. All she has to do is say the word.</p><p>Power. Veronica holds more than she realizes, especially with JD willing to do anything for her. Her hands begin to shake as she writes another note.</p><p>She doesn't know what scares her more, that she's thinking about killing or that she's enjoying it.</p><p>No more torture. No more leaders. It sounded like bliss at the time. Could she really kill again? Maybe he could trick her again and she won't realize what is happening. What am I thinking? she screams inside her mind. She'd promised herself no more death, that she'd rebel against these feelings and this anger that took control sometimes. She promised to never be like him in that way.</p><p>"So-"</p><p>"We're not killing her," Veronica cuts him off. "I'm just pissed." She laughs, stomping out her cigarette and then tearing the page out of her diary and folding it up. She puts both in her backpack and then leans against the wall again, resting her head on JD's shoulder. "What the hell is wrong with me?"</p><p>His answer is true to him and slowly becomes that to her. "Absolutely Nothing."</p><p>~</p><p>"Well?"</p><p>"It was a joke," she claims, running through the events of that day. "I swear, I wasn't going to do it. I was mad."</p><p>"And when you're angry with me, do you practice my suicide note?! You're just as crazy as him!" Heather can tell she hit a nerve as Veronica's eyes flicker up to her. "First, his dead mom is alive, then they tell me that he may not be dead-"</p><p>"He's dead, Heather."</p><p>"You don't know that!"</p><p>"If he wasn't he'd come back, but after a while, you give up on that hope." Her eyes fill with tears, the loneliness she admitted to Kaitlyn earlier coming back to her. Her idea from earlier enters her mind again. "And I'd rather think that he's dead than that he ran off somewhere and left me in this hellhole alone and pregnant."</p><p>"So you're mad that he knocked you up and then ran off, so you told everyone he's dead?" Heather raises a brow, crossing her arms and watching Veronica struggle to contain her fury.</p><p>"You don't know anything!"</p><p>"Because you don't tell me anything," Heather shoots back.</p><p>"I'm trying to protect you!"</p><p>"From what? From who?" Heather gets even closer. "And why should I believe anything that comes out of your mouth? You've lied about everything!" She sniffles, her forehead scrunching up. "You told me you loved me," she says quietly. "Was that a lie too?"</p><p>"There are things I can't tell you. For your own safety, I need you to trust me," Veronica pleads. She leaves her other question unanswered.</p><p>Heather scoffs. "Trust you? None of this is for my safety, you're just mad that I'm getting closer to the truth."</p><p>"I didn't want them dead! You hated Duke and so did I, but I didn't kill her."</p><p>"I don't believe you."</p><p>"Yeah?" Veronica grabs her wrist. "That's a shame, but I have bigger problems."</p><p>"You're just like him, you know that?" She rips her arm away as Veronica's fist connects with her cheek. Her hand flies up to her face, her fingers brushing a forming bruise and the sore bone. Her next words come out in a hoarse whisper. "What happened to you?"</p><p>"Don't test me," is Veronica's response before she runs out of the room, closing the door behind her. In the kitchen, she grabs a mug from the cabinet.</p><p>Heather lets tears run down her face, curling into a ball. She can't hide how lost she feels, how confused and alone she is. Veronica is only giving her pieces that don't want to fit together. What happened in October? Why won't she talk about it? Why did she lie about JD? She can sense anger; his anger, inside of her.</p><p>It scares her senseless.</p><p>The door opens and Veronica steps into the room, handing her a mug and an ice pack. "Lay down. I'm sorry," she says, genuine hurt in her voice. But there's an undertone of artificial emotion. Heather lays on her back, looking down at the blue contents of the mug.</p><p>"What is this?"</p><p>"Gatorade. It helps, my mom always used to give it to me when I hit my head." She motions for Heather to take a sip and sits down next to her.</p><p>Never having heard of it before, Heather furrows a brow but takes a sip. It tastes sweet and watery. "Did you add water to this or something?"</p><p>"Uh, Yeah, I diluted it so that it wouldn't overwhelm you. Trust me."</p><p>HALF HOUR LATER</p><p>Heather brings her knees to her chest, yawning.</p><p>"You're tired, take a nap."</p><p>"But-"</p><p>"I'll still be here when you wake up." Veronica takes the ice pack from her and pulls a blanket over her shoulders.</p><p>"Ronnie? Why didn't you tell me about Harvard?" Veronica freezes. "I saw... you got accepted," Heather smiles, taking her hand with her eyes still shut. "I'm proud of you."</p><p>She falls into a deep sleep moments later.</p><p>Veronica picks up the half-empty mug and holds it up before letting it fall. Liquid splashes out as it hits the floor. Heather doesn't stir, but she decides to wait a few minutes before moving her. She mentally thanks the sleeping pill for doing its job.</p><p>Picking her up bridal style, she lays her on the floor next to the mug and spilled contents, spreading her hair out around her head. She snaps a picture and slides it into an envelope.</p><p>After cleaning up the mug and laying Heather back on the bed, she walks over to the desk and takes an envelope out of a pile of papers.</p><p>Her acceptance letter.</p><p>She'd poured her heart and soul into the application, describing everything she's done from extra classes to volunteer work. What she did to Heather is a risk. She isn't blinded by love this time but motivated by it. Everything seems like another complication, but Heather is worth fighting for. Harvard, school, and Heather won't matter in the end. She knew that but applied on impulse.</p><p>"Veronica..."</p><p>Her face falls, tears of happiness turning to ones of hurt. "Why can't you just be proud of me?"</p><p>"I am proud of you, I knew this would happen," JD says, grabbing her hand. "That's why-"</p><p>"I get it, it wasn't part of the plan." She throws her hands up, letting them fall back to her sides.</p><p>"I just don't want you to get attached to the idea of something else here if we're going through with this."</p><p>"I know! You expect me to give everything up for you like that!" She snaps. "Go ahead, just throw my dreams out the window, ignore everything I want-"</p><p>"Goddammit, Veronica. Everything we're doing is for you, you came up with all this and you're the one making this harder than it is."</p><p>"I'm not even going, I just thought you'd be happy for me for once and stop thinking about all this."</p><p>"What, you're backing out now?" He challenges, raising a brow. Her fists clench by her sides.</p><p>"No!"</p><p>"Then... why?"</p><p>"I wanted to see if I was good enough," she chokes out. He frowns at the thought of standards. "And I'm just trying to decide what I want-"</p><p>"That's the thing. You want everything!"</p><p>The memory fades as she slides the letter into the bottom of the pile. Wiping a tear from under her eye, she tries to focus on tomorrow. Martha's funeral.</p><p>Sometimes you have to put on a mask, act as if you aren't falling apart when the foundation of your life is shaking beneath you and you feel yourself fall. Acting happy is what will get her through these next few days, acting as if she isn't throwing away her future for one she doesn't want. If only Heather knew what she was doing for her.</p><p>Heather goes home that night, and Veronica sits at her desk with a pen and piece of paper.</p><p>Things are running smoothly here. Things are complete. I'm ready.</p><p>A tear slides down her cheek. She'll never be ready.</p><p>I went with the classic. See you soon. ~ Gloria</p><p>She folds it up and places it in the envelope with the picture, sealing it and climbing out the window.</p><p>~^~</p><p>"Breathe, Ronnie."</p><p>Thanks, I haven't thought of that, she retorts in her mind. But when something heavy is being forced on us, when the world is falling apart, we forget what comes naturally. She sits next to Heather, sobbing out of anger. It feels as if it's going to burst through her skin.</p><p>She doesn't know which is better, to tell herself it was suicide despite knowing the truth, or admitting that it wasn't.</p><p>It's all too fast for her mind to process. A bag containing over a thousand dollars hides in her bedroom, a note reading "for supplies." She plans on going shopping. But first, she has to get through the funeral. Tomorrow will be the death of her, the day her dreams and future fall to ruins due to her decision. She hopes that Heather will fulfill her own potential, that she'll move on and be happy. She's getting the future Veronica didn't, and it's because of her that she gets to live the rest of the life in front of her.</p><p>When the funeral ends, Veronica hugs Martha's parents and clings onto Heather, numb. Martha's death wasn't bittersweet like Duke's and Chandler's, but bitter. Innocence drained from the world for no reason, pain raining down on her friends all because of a secret. </p><p>No more death, she decides.</p><p>Thinking about the plan is the equivalent of accepting sudden death. It hurts, but you have to tell yourself that this will be the hardest part. After this, it will be bliss. Except for Veronica. She isn't trying to convince herself of future bliss but ignore the future misery.</p><p>"Heather?" She says as they get inside of her car.</p><p>"Yeah?" Heather gives her one of those small smiles. She has freckles. How did Veronica never realize that? She can see them under the blush and foundation.</p><p>"Uh..." she shifts in her seat and pulls out of the parking lot. "If I were gone... I'd want you to be happy. Like, I wouldn't want it to take over your life."</p><p>Heather blinks. "What?"</p><p>Veronica can feel the destruction she's going to cause tomorrow. It makes her heartache and her eyes look everywhere except Heather's. "If something happened to me, I need to know that you'd be okay. That you wouldn't blame yourself." She bites her lip and looks at Heather.</p><p>"The hell, Sawyer." Her tone takes her by surprise. "Get over it? I freaking love you, and you expect me to get over it? What are you even talking about?"</p><p>"N-Nothing, Just hypothetically... If something happened-"</p><p>"I-"</p><p>"I need to know that you wouldn't blame yourself. I'm giving up everything for you."</p><p>"What are you talking about?" Heather shakes her head leaning back and figuring that the funeral has put her in a dark place. "You're scaring me." Tears brim her eyes.</p><p>"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She focuses on the road as Heather opens the glove box in search of a tissue. "Wait-" Too late.</p><p>She lifts up an adoption brochure. Then she turns to Veronica.</p><p>"Put it back."</p><p>"Veronica."</p><p>"Put it back!" She pulls over and starts to weep, resting her head on the steering wheel. Heather's mouth falls open as she tosses the brochure back and rubs her back.</p><p>"I'm sorry. Hey, it's okay-" Veronica lifts her head out and digs through her bag. She lights a cigarette and leans back, letting out a heavy sigh. "Is this what you didn't want me to know?" Heather asks softly.</p><p>"I'm taking you home." She sighs as she starts the car. Why did she expect an answer? "I'm sorry, Heather. I really am."</p><p>"It's okay."</p><p>***</p><p>After Heather is dropped off, she unfolds the letter she received this morning.</p><p>Gloria,</p><p>Tomorrow. Things will be better and I'm proud of you for tying things up. It will give you time to pack and purchase what you need.</p><p>00:00, 19AU9</p><p>- Soon, love.</p><p>Veronica decides that this will be the end of the war. War is about sacrifice, right? Her career, education, child, and future seem like a sacrifice to her. She needs to write a letter to Heather soon, an explanation that will reveal what she can without giving away the ugly truth.</p><p>She eyes the bag of blood money.</p><p>***</p><p>Heather paces her bedroom, thinking over everything Veronica told her. But mainly, she thinks about the questions. She walks over to the dresser and digs through clothes, pulling out a plastic bag with a tape in it. The second one, the one she received before her dad's crash. She never told Veronica.</p><p>The letters are what get her, what keeps her up at night. She's planning something with whoever this person is. Something big.</p><p>...motels... city... darling...</p><p>Darling. She furrows a brow. There was only one person who called Veronica darling.</p><p>But she claims that person is dead.</p>
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<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Thirty-Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>NEXT DAY</p><p>Tonight. 00:00, midnight in military time. That's when she loses everything. Knowing that it's for a cause doesn't make it hurt any less. As she runs her finger over a bright dress, a memory comes back. One she wishes didn't happen.</p><p>"Tonight."</p><p>Veronica walks quicker to keep up with her boyfriend. They approach train tracks, what they're doing still unknown to her.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"What time is it?" JD demands. She looks down at her watch.</p><p>"9:58." She tries to step over the tracks only for him to stop moving and pulls her against him. Confused, she looks up at him. "What are we doing?" He kisses her in response. A small giggle escapes her before she sees his face and a surge of panic runs through her. "You're scaring me."</p><p>He had seemed excited earlier, telling her to wear something nice if she wanted and to bring a watch. She didn't think much of it until now, as she stands in a tight blue dress and tights, the night air leaving goosebumps down her arms. This isn't the date she had in mind. He has an arm around her waist tightly, but not in a loving way. She tries to squirm away but is held back with more force.</p><p>"What the hell are we doing? I'm freezing." Her voice remains light but holds an undertone of fear. Then she hears the train.</p><p>9:59</p><p>"No! No, let me go, let me-"</p><p>"You're Okay, calm down." He kisses her on the cheek. "I love you."</p><p>"JD, let me go! No, this isn't- let me go, please. Don't do this."</p><p>"I'm doing this for you."</p><p>"We won't get caught, please, let me go," she pleads, tears rolling down her cheeks. It's what he always says. Everything is either for her or because of her whether she asked for it or not. She hears the train get closer. "Please!"</p><p>It's thirty seconds to death when she begins to physically struggle. She deplores the conditions he's learned to live in and understands why this seems a perfect solution though doesn't agree with it. Drops of rainfall onto her face, mixing with her tears on top of her pale skin and ruined makeup.</p><p>20 seconds.</p><p>15 seconds.</p><p>"Please!"</p><p>10 seconds.</p><p>She manages to pry his arm away and throws herself to the side of the train tracks with as much force as she can muster. He almost falls and she does as she drags them both away. The train rushes by, a giant blow of air hitting them.</p><p>"Dammit, Veronica."</p><p>Sobs rattle her entire body, suffocating her from the inside out. The anxiety remains as she squeezes her eyes shut and covers her ears with her hands to block out the receding train. Cool Earth presses against her frozen skin, blades of grass slicing at her arms.</p><p>"W-What the hell is w-wrong with y-you?!" She chokes out. Rain comes down harder. "Get away from me."</p><p>He picks her up despite her protests, throwing her over his shoulder and walking to the car. She covers her mouth with her hand to muffle her crying, bringing her knees to her chest as he drives.</p><p>"I want out. I can walk-"</p><p>"Like Hell, you'll walk. It's pouring rain."</p><p>"I want out!"</p><p>He slams on the brake hard enough to make her fly forward with a surprised yelp. When he begins driving at regular speed again, her hyperventilating increases and her tears come faster. Who knows what he'll do next. She wants to tell herself that it isn't him, that she doesn't recognize the boy next to her. She doesn't. There's a gleam in his eye that isn't usually there and energy that scares her.</p><p>Too scared to grasp words, she sniffles and takes a deep breath. Every word will result in a fight right now, and if things get worse she might lose her life. Again.</p><p>JD focuses on the road but can see the trembling girl curled up as far away from him as she can get. He double-checks that the doors are locked. The car stunt was only a warning, his anger being released on accident. At least it silenced her for the most part. He doesn't understand why she's crying. If she would listen, if she knew when to shut her mouth, she wouldn't be. He knows that she's stronger than this.</p><p>She's smarter than to go to the cops, and she knows he'll have her handcuffed to the bed if she tries. Or have a gun to her head.</p><p>Both of them get lost in the moment, one of them blinded by emotion. It's the excuse they always use. He's hurt her without knowing it, but she doesn't feel hurt. Only fear. She's used to the fear yet it always comes as a surprise when he slaps her across the face or pins her down. He loves having control for once in his life, hegemony and power, and she loves being loved, feeling safe when she does and knowing she's not alone. When things are good they're great. When they aren't, it's awful. Veronica can't leave without breaking her own heart.</p><p>It's possible to love a monster because you know who they were before that and spend every bad moment thinking that they'll go back. And sometimes they do, making up for bruises with flowers and things to make her forget what happened the night before. If she had the strength to say that he was hurting her, his first thought would be "since when?"</p><p>It's a cycle, one that they're trapped in because he doesn't know what he's doing and she pushes it aside as much as she can. She doesn't classify it as rape when she's too scared to say no, she doesn't call it abuse when he says he didn't mean it. It isn't like he beats her for no reason or threatens to.</p><p>They don't use the "It was me, not you," because both of them refused to take the blame, blaming each other instead. The pain and destruction that the explosion of their love carries is an unforgiving drug, addicting and sugar-coated with teddy bears and roses with "I'm sorry" notes attached. It was a never-ending carousel of pain and manipulation and sex and what she thought was love.</p><p>"Are you finding things alright?"</p><p>Veronica snaps out of the memory with weight on her chest. She gives the sales clerk a small smile and nod before turning and running out of the store. She already bought some clothes and decides to wrap up her shopping trip. Tossing the bag in the car before getting in the passenger seat, a familiar ghost appears in the review mirror.</p><p>"What are you doing, Sawyer?" Her calling her by her last name triggers yet another memory.</p><p>"Sawyer?"</p><p>Veronica holds the phone closer to her ear, her hands trembling. "Can you come to pick me up? I'm at JD's." She whispers an address and then slips out the door as quiet as possible. Once on the sidewalk, she lets her tears flow. A car pulls up to her relief, and she gets in the passenger seat, not saying a word until they're on the road.</p><p>"Well? What the hell happened, Sawyer?" The girl in red demands.</p><p>"Uh... we had a fight." Her undertone of fear gives Heather anxiety. "I just didn't want to stay."</p><p>"Okay, he couldn't take you home?"</p><p>"It would have made things worse," she sniffles. "Thanks for getting me."</p><p>"What was the fight about?" Chandler question, drumming her fingers against the wheel.</p><p>"Can we not talk about it?"</p><p>Heather sighs. "Fine."</p><p>"Thank you."</p><p>That was only the first time.</p><p>That night, Veronica paces, doubting everything. She's in too deep to try to swim out of this whirlpool of lies. Why would she go back to that trap? To the pain?</p><p>I'm doing it for Mac. There has to be another way, a way that keeps Mac safe and him away without her going through with this. She shouldn't be sentenced to a life of misery because of love. She eyes the rest of the money. Maybe she won't escape with him... maybe there is a way to pull this off.</p><p>She grabs her already packed bag and gun along with the money and a few photos. She's had the bag packed for months. She grabs the Harvard letter and stuffs that in as well. She'll still be making a sacrifice, just not one as big as before. Her impulsive decision hasn't left her much time.</p><p>She drives up to Heather's and runs up to the door, pounding on it and looking back over her shoulder.</p><p>"Ronnie?" The blonde steps onto the porch.</p><p>"We need to get out of Sherwood. Now."</p>
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<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Thirty-Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>DON'T DO ANY OF THIS AT HOME, KIDS.</p><p>"What is going on, Veronica?"</p><p>"I- I need you to drive," she shouts, sliding into the passenger seat. "I need to think."</p><p>Heather starts the car, shaking her head and waiting for an explanation as to why they're running away in the middle of the night. Wind slips between tree branches and rattles fireplace doors and windows, a chill leaving goosebumps on every inch of exposed skin. Heather almost asks to turn to the heater on but decides against it.</p><p>She thinks back to the bag she has in the back, clothes, and money all Veronica told her to bring, along with anything super important to her. The pieces don't want to fit together. All she knows is that Veronica carries a tension full of fear and determination, there are bags in the back of the car, and something is wrong.</p><p>Something is very, very wrong. </p><p>"Where are we going?"</p><p>"I...I don't know. Just drive!" Hell of a plan. Veronica tries to keep from hyperventilating, keeping her eyes on the back window and then looking back at the clock. Crap. It reads later than she thought. Right now there isn't time for mistakes. Mistakes mean death.</p><p>He wouldn't kill her unless he had to, but she'd rather die than lose Heather and live. Then live the life she'd fantasized about. It's only now that her mind forces her to confront the truth; things would only get worse. Living on the run wouldn't be a teenager's dream of being in New York under a stoplight but a life of a crime. It would ensnare her in a love that would turn one-sided, but she'd be stuck.</p><p>Freedom. It makes her want to cry, but freedom sits at the end of a gun. A shot could bestow her the end of a war and the end of the pain. No more death, she'd promised. But what if it's the answer this time?</p><p>Veronica climbs into the backseat and digs through her bag. Then she pulls out a gun.</p><p>"W-where did you get that? What are you doing?!"</p><p>She stares at it for a long second.</p><p>"Veronica." Heather glances in the review mirror. "Veronica! I think someone's following us."</p><p>Veronica's breath catches in her throat. She acts fast, sliding back into the passenger seat and keeping the gun in a tight grip. Sure enough, a black car is on their tail, the windows too tinted for her to see. She doesn't need to to know who it is.</p><p>"What the hell is going on? Who is that?" Mac tenses, her elbows pressed tightly against her sides and knuckles white. Veronica's tapping foot and bit lip don't help her anxiety. She sucks in a breath and speeds up.</p><p>"Go left. Head towards the woods."</p><p>A glance at the license plate tells her that her time is up. Tonight can only end in tragedy, but a tragedy for a cause. Veronica makes up her mind and blocks out the thoughts trying to shoot down her decision. She looks over her shoulder again.</p><p>"Alright, who the hell is that?"</p><p>"Just-" as the car pulls up next to them, Veronica murmurs a string of curses and takes her seatbelt off. Another idea runs through her mind. "Stay on the left side."</p><p>"Wha-"</p><p>Both windows roll down.</p><p>"Greetings and Salutations, Gloria."</p><p>"You can stop with the nicknames now." Veronica blows hair out of her face and shifts, now sitting on her knees.</p><p>"Yeah? You can move and make this easy." He raises his arm, flashing the gun. "You lied, Ronnie. Didn't want to do this in front of you."</p><p>She sighs. "We're all a bunch of liars anyway, right?"</p><p>"Wait, How- I was right!" Heather exclaims. A car passes them. All of them hold their breath, going back to their positions when it passes. Veronica shifts again, one foot on the floor of the car and the other still tucked under her.</p><p>"Move, Veronica." His voice is more demanding now. "I'm giving you everything."</p><p>...You could have everything, Gloria. I hear the city's inspirational...</p><p>"Nothing that I want."</p><p>He laughs, raising a brow. "You were singing a different tune a week ago."</p><p>"I miss a week ago when I didn't have to listen to-"</p><p>"Seriously, what is going on?" Heather demands. Veronica doesn't look back at her, her eyes still on JD- more specifically, his gun.</p><p>"Go faster," Veronica mumbles, bracing herself with one hand on the side of the window. He chuckles, one hand on the steering wheel. His eyes flicker from Veronica to the road to the gun in his right hand. She keeps unreadable if not angered expression, but he can see her hand shaking. He also knows that the girl behind her has messed with her head, blinding her of everything she wants.</p><p>"Backing out?" He asks casually as the windows line up again. "You know, wipe away the blood and you'll have a plate of success. She's messing with you, Veronica. Are you forgetting everything you'll have?"</p><p>"I'm done being brainwashed by money and dresses." The words leave a bitter taste in her mouth.</p><p>"Alright, What about the feeling?" He laughs when her eyes widen. She knows what he's talking about without him saying it. "See? The world needs a cleansing. Fortunately, we aren't afraid to get our hands dirty."</p><p>"I think it needs a cleansing of people like you."</p><p>He raises the gun again, but she throws herself in front of Heather, smirking. He waits for her to sit back up, looking for a passageway. She's scared. Acting without thinking, her heart overpowering her logic but the brilliant side of her mind still kicking in. His anger at the girl next to her only grows. It's the same anger when he saw them in the car that day. I should have killed her then. Grabbed Ronnie and made a run for it.</p><p>"What's the plan, Veronica?" He keeps his tone steady, watching her eyes harden. "You always seem to have one. Drive until you run out of gas, set up camp in the woods and keep Heather hidden in a bush?" An undertone of something she can't identify brings back memories. Stern, mad, but spoken in a way that makes her underestimate him.</p><p>"Sounds better than what you had in mind." She stays between them, legs wobbling when Heather makes a turn but her grip on the car keeping her up. Then she puts a knee on the window ledge, pulling herself up. "Go faster."</p><p>JD smirks. Reckless. She acts on impulse now, throwing herself onto a battlefield to protect the girl that messed her up. This isn't the Veronica he remembers, and she has a shield of knowledge about what he does. It's harder to manipulate her now. Targeting Heather is the spot that gives him a grip on her mind and body, already making her impulsive and careless about everything else.</p><p>"Veronica, Stop!"</p><p>She doesn't listen. Leaning further out the window, she swallows and puts her other leg under her on the edge, her fingers sliding higher up and grip tightening.</p><p>"Veronica, Stop. I'm serious!" Heather remains ignored.</p><p>I'm doing this to protect you, goddammit.</p><p>She puts one leg out and then throws herself forward, night air hitting her like a train. The impact of landing in the other car knocks all of the oxygen from her lungs, sending her gasping and panting when she climbs in all the way and punches him in the jaw, clawing for the gun.</p><p>Here we go again.</p><p>"I remember when you were in this position for a different reason."</p><p>"Shut up." Veronica goes to swing again, but he grabs her arm and shoves her into the passenger seat. The edge of the leather slices at her back and bare arms, her head almost hitting the glovebox. She throws herself at him, throwing her own gun down in front of the seat and out of his reach before wrestling for his. "Give it me you-" her foot slips and hits the gas pedal. The car spins once, twice.</p><p>A gunshot rings through the night.</p><p>He slams on the brake, throwing her to the opposite side of the car. Her head slams against the window. Light and darkness fade together, her world disappearing before she remembers the girl in the other car and forces her eyes open despite temping sleep on the other end of her pounding head. She reaches for the gun. The car continues at a slower pace, JD realizing she grabbed his gun and speeding back up to Heather. Veronica being half-conscious gives him time.</p><p>"I'm pregnant, you douchebag," she grunts between gasps.</p><p>"Veronica! Are you okay?" Heather shouts. "We're almost at the woods-"</p><p>"Stop." Veronica pulls herself up and shoves his hand off of the wheel, slamming her foot on the brake before he pulls her down with an arm around her neck. She slaps him hard enough to make his hand release from her hair, letting her pull away and grab the other gun. One hand fumbles with the buttons on the car door until she feels the one she wants.</p><p>The window rolls down, and she tosses the gun out the window and into the edge of the woods blindly. The car comes to a stop with a jerk, slamming her against the front. Something digs into her stomach until she sits up and throws the passenger door open.</p><p>"Stay behind me," she whispers to a confused and scared Heather once they stand in the entryway of the woods with a panting JD in front of them. Veronica keeps her arm with the gun in her hand extended, raised but shaking.</p><p>Pain slices through her upper arm, causing her to yelp and tense. She looks down to see blood.</p><p>"You son of a bitch!"</p><p>She doesn't remember the gun being aimed at her, meaning he must have shot her while she was half-conscious... no, she remembers the gunshot. But she doesn't remember it hurting this bad. JD smirks, tilting his head at her. Patches of blood coat the collar of his shirt.</p><p>Heather pants behind Veronica, still confused but beginning to piece things together.</p><p>JD watches the blood drip from her shoulder. It was perfect, enough to mess her up but not kill her. His anger rises when he realizes just where they are. He stands gunless in front of Veronica and Heather, right where they started, with Heather still alive.</p><p>Veronica tries to speak but ends up in a choking, falling into a coughing fit. She spits blood and then looks up again. Smeared blood and scratch marks coat her cheeks, a bruise above her eye, and another on her jaw.</p><p>"Mac isn't Chandler or Duke," she says quietly, her hoarse voice surprising her. "And she can stay here, or go somewhere else and we'll never see her again. I'll go with you-"</p><p>"No, Veronica, I'm not letting you-"</p><p>"Shut up," she pants, gasping for air and using her other hand to cover the bullet wound for a second. When it stings, she lets her arm fall back to her side. "I swear. I'll go with you, and I won't fight. I'll do whatever you want and I won't leave."</p><p>"Ronnie, please-"</p><p>"Shut up!" She keeps her eyes on JD, the gun remaining raised. The next seconds of silence contains what she mistakes as hope.</p><p>He laughs instead, shaking his head. "Back at it with the bribes?"</p><p>Veronica lets out a forced breath, her chest rising and falling quicker and hands sweating against the gun. Memories and mistakes wash over her, almost knocking her off her feet from emotions fighting to take over. She had been good at keeping them buried, focusing on the things in front of her. Now all she can focus on is emotion. That and the gun.</p><p>Lost for words, she looks at him, really looks at him, for the first time tonight. From the dark hair to deep eyes that suck her in and used to make her butterflies erupt in her stomach when he looked at her. Now her stomach turns with guilt and anger, a heartbreak explosion. She looks at his thin lips she can barely remember the taste of and the bruises she caused, identical to the ones that would show up on her wrists from him. Blood stands out even in the darkness, seeming to glow against his porcelain pale skin.</p><p>Moonlight floods through between the branches of rustling trees. She feels the chill for the first time. Heather takes a step forward from behind her, leaves crunching beneath her feet. Veronica puts an arm out to keep her back.</p><p>"Veronica."</p><p>"What?" She replies, her voice so small it's almost a whisper. "What? It isn't going to happen."</p><p>"You want me dead," Heather speaks, ignoring Veronica's wide eyes and keeping hers on JD. "I don't really understand why. But let Veronica go to Harvard. And let her keep the baby. Leave." She turns to Veronica. "Give me the gun."</p><p>"No. No!" She shrieks, stumbling back a bit and lowering the gun. "No. After everything, you're not... no." She puts an arm in front of Heather again and raises her arm.</p><p>"Mr. No Name Kid, right?" Heather speaks again. Both of them look at her. "That's why the letters weren't addressed to anyone. You're Gloria..." she looks at Veronica. "And you two have been planning this... that day, in October, you didn't run-"</p><p>Veronica cuts her off. "I did." Her voice lowers as the wind blows her hair around her head. "We both did."</p><p>They turn back around. Just let me get this over with, Veronica pleads. But if she does it this second she won't forgive herself for the rest of her life. She takes a step forward. He doesn't seem intent on hurting her anymore, but one thing she knows him to be is unpredictable.</p><p>"We could have had a life together, Veronica."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>She knows what he's doing before he has his next words planned out.</p><p>"You ruined the happy ending. One-shot and we get away with everything."</p><p>"One shot and you drop dead." Her voice lowers, mouth trembling. "Just like Martha and Duke."</p><p>"You-"</p><p>"I didn't ask for this!" She screams with an ache in her chest. Tears leave clean trails in the blood and dirt. "I didn't want them dead. I didn't want to sit next to my best friend with a gun in my lap and almost pull the trigger because I felt so trapped and terrified, I didn't want blood money- I didn't want any of this! So stop trying to pin this on me."</p><p>He laughs slowly, rubbing his chin and then shaking his head. "You may not have wanted it, but it needed to happen and you know that. You count on me to save your-"</p><p>"You're not protecting me! I don't care how much they knew, they didn't deserve to die." She takes another step forward, and Heather sucks in a breath. "You think that it was going to hurt me. That everyone except you is going to hurt me-"</p><p>"They're messing with you, Veronica!"</p><p>"No! You're messing with me. You're hurting me."</p><p>Those words slice through everything: his mind, thoughts, and heart. She takes a step back and covers her mouth with a bloody hand, a sob escaping her throat. They are the words that she wanted to say when he pinned her down or slammed her against something or pulled her hair, words she had always been too scared to say. If she had stopped being weak and pushed him off of her and screamed that back then, would he have had the same reaction?</p><p>Is that all it would have taken?</p><p>Her grip on the gun tightens as she sniffles, holding back another sob. "Things wouldn't be better, you know that." She shrugs, letting out a small laugh. "Or you don't. I don't think you do, and-"</p><p>"And you're giving up?"</p><p>"No, you don't get to turn this on me." Tears mixed with blood drip off of her chin. "But you will." She looks into his eyes again knowing it feels like someone is stabbing her. Longing for the person she used to know and love to come back is hopeless, the truth that he's gotten worse and it would be dangerous to get in the car with him looming over Veronica's shoulder. She used to see a gentleness when it came to her. Now all she sees is hurt. Anger. Too much anger for a seventeen-year-old to try and fix.</p><p>She raises the gun again.</p><p>"I missed you. A lot. I d-didn't want to, but I did.  And I s-still do. But there's no point, and I can't live with the guilt anymore."</p><p>His eyes flicker from the gun to her. "And you think this is going to help?"</p><p>She doesn't stutter this time. "I know it will."</p><p>"Then pull the trigger, Veronica."</p><p>She lets out something between a wail and a sob, then turns to Heather, who has silently been crying behind her.</p><p>"Turn around and close your eyes." Veronica swallows the lump in her throat and waits for Heather to close her eyes, refusing to take her innocence.</p><p>She had been told not to let emotion take over with murder. It clouds logic. But emotion is fuel, the fuel she needs. She stands where she stood in October: with no other choice after what she did. She doesn't focus on the pain and sorrow but the freedom, the life she's saving and the opportunities the future will provide.</p><p>"I love you, Veronica."</p><p>She focuses on the good memories, the ones she'll keep, and the moments that help her sleep. She thinks about why she's doing this. For once there isn't guilt, but peace. Maybe he was right all those months ago, and another asteroid is overdue. Maybe that asteroid is her.</p><p>The gunshot echoes throughout the woods, breaking the silence.</p><p>***</p><p>"We have to make sure- I wiped it down. We have to go back and get the other gun, and I have some stuff I need to burn." Veronica wipes her forehead and continues to walk beside Heather.</p><p>"I'll drive," Heather says as they approach the car. She didn't need to say it considering Veronica's wound and her mental state, which is better than what Heather thought it would be. To Veronica, she doesn't have a choice. She has to be okay, she has to stay strong and keep her mind in front of her heart until they finish all this.</p><p>It takes almost ten minutes for them to find the gun in the dark. After cleaning up the other car, making sure everything is in place, cleaning off the weapon, and finding the gun, it's past one in the morning.</p><p>"Here, Stop here." Veronica opens the door and jogs up to an abandoned house, derelict and breaking down. Heather watches her disappear inside and debates whether she should follow.</p><p>She emerges carrying a small box and gets back in the car without a word.</p><p>***</p><p>Later, they stand in front of the fire pit in Veronica's backyard. She tosses in her diary and then the letters, forcing her eyes away from the writing on the front. The crackling flames warm their skin as they take their shirts off and throw those in for good measure. Veronica washes the gun off with the hose and puts it in a plastic bag with fabric, ash, and burnt paper on top of it before throwing it in the outside trash can.</p><p>"Where are your parents?"</p><p>"My dad's on a work trip and my mom's at her friend's."</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>Veronica flinches as she sits down on the bed, the dull ache in her arm growing worse.</p><p>"You need a hospital-"</p><p>"No."</p><p>Heather scoffs, sitting down next to her. "Veronica. For once, would you not be stubborn and let someone take care of you."</p><p>We've gotten away with this so far. If we get caught now...</p><p>"Get my pocketknife out of the black backpack."</p><p>***</p><p>Heather tries to help the best she can without looking. She pushes aside her doubts about Veronica's qualification to do something like this and hands her tweezers as she demands.</p><p>After listening to her scream in agony for ten minutes, she takes them from her.</p><p>"There's just a lot of blood, and I can't see. And the lightings bad- crap, I'm getting blood all over the counter." Veronica blinks back tears and thinks about everything she knows about bullet wounds. JD taught her so many random philosophy things, why couldn't he have taught her more about this? The laughs at the irony of him being the one who shot her after telling her about how not to get shot.</p><p>I've seen him do this before. "Heather." She wipes her nose and straightens up. "Hand me a washcloth. This is going to hurt."</p><p>***<br/>A half-hour later, she finishes throwing away bloody paper towels as Heather finishes her shower. She takes her one of her own, attempting not to wet the bandage over the empty wound. She'll have a scar on her back after a while.</p><p>When she emerges from the bathroom, Heather lays on her bed reading a magazine in borrowed pajamas. She'd called her mom and told her she was sleeping over, that Veronica needed her, a few minutes ago. Now she sits up and realizes it wasn't a lie as Veronica sobs against her chest.</p><p>Tonight they need sleep, as impossible as that seems. Veronica refuses to leave Mac's arms, and she knows that she won't get much of out of her like this.</p><p>But tomorrow, she has some explaining to do.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Thirty-Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Ronnie."</p><p>"Hmmm?"</p><p>"You were yelling."</p><p>Veronica rolls over, wiping her wet eyes and blinking until her vision focuses. "Sorry," she yawns, sitting up. The events of earlier hit her with full force. She glances at the clock. Four AM. The dull ache remains in her arm despite the Advil, her entire body exhausted. It took over an hour for things to stop spinning, and even laying down she feels as if instead of a bed, a roller coaster spins her.</p><p>"It's fine. Are you okay?" Heather stretches her arms above her head, sleepiness is still evident in her drooping eyelids.</p><p>Veronica leans back against the pillow again. "As okay as I can get, I guess."</p><p>"Ok, try to get some sleep." Heather rolls over but feels a hand on her arm and turns back around. Veronica moves closer, resting her head on her chest and slipping her arms around her waist. Heather kisses the top of her head without thinking.</p><p>How are they supposed to do something so simple, so natural, after doing something so big? She went from listening to Veronica kill her boyfriend to being curled up in silky pajamas and surrounded by stuffed animals. The smell of copper lingers even after Veronica coated the air with strong perfume. Their bodies lay exhausted while their minds keep going.</p><p>It's going to be a long night.</p><p>***</p><p>Heather awakens to the sun with Veronica remaining in a deep sleep next to her.</p><p>7:12 AM. She got more sleep than she'd expected she would. Stretching, she lifts the blanket and slides out of bed, being as quiet as possible. Veronica doesn't even stir.</p><p>A classic rock song blasts from the radio as she flops down on his bed, leaning against pillows and laughing. Her eyes lock with the boy in front of her, leaning against the dresser with a Slushie in one hand.</p><p>She sits up, swinging her feet before hopping off the bed. He sets the Slushie down as she walks over and turns the music up, smirking at him.</p><p>"Ronnie, won't-"</p><p>"They'll live." She turns it louder and then wraps her arms around his neck, standing up taller and pressing their lips together. She jumps up a bit, her legs lifted behind her.</p><p>"You're so light," he says when they break off, kissing her forehead.</p><p>"Am not."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>In response, he picks her up and throws her on the bed. She flips him off, rolling her eyes and getting back up with a small smile.</p><p>"That's not fair, you only had to hold me for a second."</p><p>He picks her up again, kissing her for a long minute and then setting her back down. She keeps her eyes on him. For a moment, she forgets that they're in her room with the window open and music blasting in the middle of the night. She forgets that her parents are sleeping and that they have school tomorrow. She pulls him closer and kisses him again.</p><p>The floor falls from under them.</p><p>The warmth disappears, the fabric of his shirt fading from beneath her fingertips. She opens her eyes in the woods. Rain-soaks through her pajamas instantly with drops of water leaving chills on her bare arms and hands. Then she sees the gun. The ground disappears once again.</p><p>"Ronnie. Hey, wake up." Heather shakes her a bit, bracing herself for a scream. She sits up, disoriented and confused, but not panicking.</p><p>Her face crumples, her eyes dull and wrinkles of pain appearing on her forehead. "Where..." a sob cuts her off. He liked classic rock. We'd walk all the way to the park at night. He'd drive me around until I fell asleep in the car and I'd wake up in his bed. I had somebody. Heather puts an arm around her shoulders, her trembling body still warm from being buried in blankets.</p><p>How did things get so ugly? So tarnished? The same person that carried her home when she was too drunk to walk and the same person that she snuck cigarettes behind the school and made fun of teachers with is the same person that caused ineffable pain. His blood is on her hands along with Chandler's, Ram's and Kurt's. The ache of grief has embedded itself inside of her, but the bittersweetness and relief overwhelm it. </p><p>That makes her feel even worse.</p><p>What isn't she? The sadness is there, the loss is there. The relief and newfound hope has been uncovered, so why does she feel so weird? It isn't an emotion, but a fact.</p><p>She doesn't regret it.</p><p>You're supposed to regret bad things and learn from them. The lessons it taught her are bad, morbid even, but they exist. She gulps and wipes her face with both hands, sitting cross-legged and fiddling with the blanket.</p><p>"Do you want to talk about anything?" Heather asks.</p><p>"I think you have more questions than I do," Veronica giggles. "But that's understandable. Where am I supposed to start?" She laughs again, but this time it's out of nerves.</p><p>"Maybe with your dead boyfriend being alive, with you guys fighting over me like a chew toy,  that you've been writing letters to your not-dead boyfriend, that-"</p><p>"Okay, I get it," she sighs. "I haven't told you much."</p><p>Heather scoffs. "Understatement of the century."</p><p>Veronica shifts, truths on the tip of her tongue and secrets in the back of her mind. After burying these things for so long, how is she supposed to put everything out in the open? "We uh... sorry, this is a lot..."</p><p>"How about you start from the beginning?"</p><p>"We had an idea," Veronica chokes out. "A crazy idea to get out of Sherwood together. I never thought it would... that anything would happen. What happened in October wasn't planned."</p><p>"The bomb?"</p><p>"Right. None of this was planned, but it was. If that makes sense. It was impulsive-"</p><p>Heather tilts her head. "Huh? What was?"</p><p>Veronica sighs. "The bomb wasn't planned. It threw things off. One night, we were talking about getting out of here together... running away. I didn't think anything of it. And when... in October, we had a fight before he went to the football field with the bomb." She licks her lips and stares at her lap.</p><p>"O-ok... what happened?"</p><p>"I ripped it away from him and ran into the woods."</p><p>"Veronica!" His voice slices through the wind as the distance between them increases. She runs into the woods, branches cracking beneath her feet. Footsteps follow, running just as fast. "Veronica!"</p><p>"We can turn this around, " she pants. "W-what we talked about that night, get out of here." Their lips connect so temporarily that she can barely feel it. She throws the bomb, an understanding passing between them through just their eyes.</p><p>"I'll remember."</p><p>They both turn and start running again, him through the woods and her towards the school. The ground shakes beneath her as she reaches the football field. Almost passing out, she stumbles to the building and throws herself inside.</p><p>"You look like hell."</p><p>"I just got back."</p><p>"And then you guys made the rest of the plan?"</p><p>"I didn't expect him to actually... continue where we left off. But I got a letter... he hadn't left Sherwood yet." Heather tilts her head, her forehead wrinkling as she tries to piece everything together. "He was here to get me. I knew he wouldn't leave, and he would just kill more people... so I acted happy about going."</p><p>"The jewelry, it was to sell for money? For that?"</p><p>Veronica nods, staring at her lap. "To get from place to place. We already had a good amount, Who knows what he did that I didn't see." She shakes her head, laughing. "But he said we had to finish things in Sherwood first."</p><p>"...What does that mean?"</p><p>Now she looks up at her. "It means, we had to finish killing the Heathers."</p><p>"Oh." A long silence follows. "But what about Martha and Betty? How does that help your plan?"</p><p>"It wasn't part of it." Veronica sucks in a breath, tears threatening to spill over. "Everyone who knew about Chandler... or Ram and Kurt... he thought he was protecting me." She wipes her eyes and shrugs. "I should have known, but at first... I didn't think he was still in town and I didn't want to think about it."</p><p>She waits for a reaction from Heather, but she doesn't give one.</p><p>"He wanted me to kill you, and if I didn't, he'd kill you anyway. So, I faked your death."</p><p>"What a reasonable thing to do," Heather mumbles, smacking her forehead. "This is mess after mess, Veronica."</p><p>"You think I don't know that? You already know that it didn't work. I was going to go with him and get out of here with him thinking that you're dead. Then I decided to try and get you out of Sherwood-"</p><p>"Why didn't you just let me die?"</p><p>Veronica blinks. "What?"</p><p>"It would have made things so much easier. Kill me and then kill him." Heather says it as casually as saying the sky is blue. Veronica's mouth falls open, tears dripping off her chin.</p><p>"Are you kidding me? Do you know what it takes to kill somebody?! I-"</p><p>"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Heather says quickly, pulling her into a hug. "I get why you did it."</p><p>Veronica sniffles, nodding.</p><p>"Anyways, I wanted to get you out of here and hide you somewhere... then it all fell apart," she says with a small laugh.</p><p>"What about the pregnancy?" Heather asks quietly. It's still touchy, but there's more hope of her talking about it now.</p><p>"What about- oh... it was a complication, something we didn't need. You can't have a baby on the run, you know." She puts a hand on her stomach, more tears filling her eyes. "we'd have fights about it... I knew what I was going to have to do in the end, then I started having nightmares." She shrugs again. "He didn't care."</p><p>"Why didn't you tell anybody?"</p><p>"He told me not to. There wasn't any point. I'd finish the senior year, put the baby up for adoption, and we'd be on our way. I didn't need reasons to stay, and no one could find out about it..."</p><p>Heather grabs her hand. "Ronnie, you'd never forgive yourself if you did that."</p><p>"I know. I know." She falls onto Mac again, her tears wetting the front of her shirt as Heather runs her fingers through her hair.</p><p>"You're safe now, you know that." Their lips brush before they give in, melting into each other with longing pulsing under their skin. Veronica pushes her backward, her arms around her neck and their lips still connect.</p><p>They break off with a small giggle but don't change their position, Veronica resting her head on her chest with Heather's hand still in her hair.</p><p>"I love you, Ronnie."</p><p>"I love you too, Macaroon."</p><p>When they do get up, they kiss each other again before Veronica walks into her bedroom. Chandler appears by the bed.</p><p>"Drool over McNamara much?"</p><p>Veronica grins, putting her hands up in defense. "Hey, don't blame me that she's hot." She takes a step back. "Heather, why are you here? Like... shouldn't you be somewhere else?"</p><p>Chandler shrugs, sighing. She refuses to tell Veronica about the loneliness she faces when she isn't there. Or that she's terrified.</p><p>"I'm sorry... for killing you and stuff."</p><p>She laughs, cracking a smile. "Sure you are, Sawyer." Her look becomes more serious after a second. "I'm sorry too."</p><p>"I'd hug you, but I can't." Veronica blows her a kiss before turning and running back to Mac.</p><p>She doesn't see Chandler again after that.</p><p>***</p><p>Veronica tosses the last photo into the fire, memories of the night that everything went down racing through her mind. Gone. She can heal now.</p><p>Heather grabs her hand. "Ready?"</p><p>Veronica's smile answers for her.</p>
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<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Thirty-Seven (Final Chapter)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>NEXT YEAR</p><p>Veronica jogs down the steps of Harvard and walks out the gate, tossing an empty coffee cup into a trash can before getting on the bus that had stopped in front of her. She sits down, straightening out her skirt and leaning back. Just as she begins to doze off, the bus comes to a stop, causing her to stand.</p><p>After another bus and an hour, she shows up at a small house in Sherwood. Taking a deep breath, she grabs her bag and walks up the steps, heels clicking against the pavement. A baby's laugh and the giggle of a girl drift through to her. The jiggling of her key draws their attention from inside.</p><p>"Hey, I'm home." Veronica steps inside to silence. "Mom?" Setting her bag on the table, she glances around at the home she knows so well, the wallpaper she hates and the countertops that never seem to be cluttered.</p><p>"She isn't here," a voice says from the living room. Her guard raises, her hands shaking by her sides. The voice sounded female and soft, not threatening. But sometimes her anxiety doesn't care to think about the difference. She swallows the lump in her throat and steps into the living room.</p><p>"Hi, Ronnie. Surprise?" Heather bites her lip and stands from the couch.</p><p>"Heather." Veronica relaxes, letting out a long breath. "Hey, I... what are you doing here?" She looks from Mac to the baby in her arms, who begins to kick and smile when seeing Veronica. Heather hands her to Veronica. "Hey, baby." She shifts, kissing the top of her head. Martha Jane Sawyer was born in June, a bit earlier than expected. McNamara remembers the look on Veronica's face that day, love and hope under the sweat, exhaustion, and hair plastered to her tear-stained face. Heather was sobbing when Veronica told her the name, Jane after Heather's middle name and Martha in honor of her best friend. She was a life in the midst of death. Sometimes she's the only thing that keeps Veronica going.</p><p>Veronica observes Heather next. The way her face has changed, her cheekbones more defined and her skin a bit lighter, dark circles under her eyes and a tint of brown to her golden hair. She smiles, giving Veronica a hug.</p><p>"How long have you been here?"</p><p>"Not too long. Your parents went out, they didn't tell me where they were going. I thought I'd surprise you."</p><p>Veronica smiles, kissing her daughter again. "I'm surprised, alright. How's everything going?" She sits down next to her with Martha in her lap.</p><p>"Good, I've expanded to necklaces and even some earrings. We have a location in the mall downtown now." After high school, McNamara took over the family business, expanding to different types of jewelry and buying things for Veronica that she tries to decline but always loses the argument to Heather's insisting. She subconsciously begins to fumble with the promise rings on a silver chain that she wears around her neck. It usually remains hidden by the top of her shirt.</p><p>"That's great!"</p><p>"How's school treating you?"</p><p>Veronica blows hair out of her face. "It's okay, but I'm tired. I just want to sleep, but there's a thing called studying that doesn't like that word."</p><p>"Good thing I made dinner."</p><p>She laughs, shaking her head. "What are we, married?" Something runs through her, but she fails to tell if it's a longing or nostalgia. Maybe a bit of both. "I just want to be done with school, you know? Hurry things along and get a microphone in my hand."</p><p>"I can picture you slaughtering anyone who steals your story." They both fall into giggles. Something changes in Heather's face, this time a feeling of full nostalgia overcoming them both. Veronica's throat closes up, a sudden urge for water causing her to stand and hand Martha to Heather.</p><p>"I'll be right back." Hearing how thin her voice sounds surprises her. She walks aimlessly down the hallway before entering her bedroom and sliding down against the wall. Her heart pounds loud enough she wouldn't be surprised if it burst out of her chest. Something about Heather's laugh and the softness of her voice brings her back to high school. They were never a thing and never were for a reason. Neither of them was ready. Or at least, that's what Heather thinks.</p><p>In truth, they both were scared of how it would turn out. A relationship built on death with girls as young as they were was bound to crumble. But they're no longer as young. Should she keep ignoring the desire and pull she feels when they touch or give in? Would it ruin the delicate layer of friendship? Surely, there was another reason why Heather came to visit. Her stomach turns at the thought of having the conversation both of them know are necessary.</p><p>Somehow, Heather still leaves her breathless.</p><p>She had been wrong when thinking the feelings would fade with age and distraction. No amount of work to focus on can keep her away from the confrontation her feelings force on her. Running her fingers through her hair, she collects herself and walks back out.</p><p>"I think we should talk," she says upon entering the room. Heather looks up, her lips parted.</p><p>"Everything okay?"</p><p>"Yeah, everything's fine." Veronica shifts, sighing. "Why are you here, Heather?"</p><p>"Because I need to know what you want. There's a business opportunity... in L.A. I'd hate myself if I left knowing I ruined us. Whatever we are." She presses her lips together and folds her hands in her lap as the words sink in.</p><p>"Well... do you think it would help? I can't keep you here if you want to leave, Mac." Veronica had spent so much time focusing on the physical reasons they couldn't be together as teens that she'd forgotten about the emotional battle until the mess was cleaned up. It would be selfish to keep Heather here just because it would break her heart if she left.</p><p>"It's risky, but if it goes well, then yes. It wouldn't be for a while," she adds. "But I'm not going to leave if you need help with the baby or need me closer."</p><p>"I have my parents, and you've been a huge help. But I have a grip on things right now. I can't decide this for you." Veronica considers whether to speak more but decides against it and awaits a reply.</p><p>Heather unfolds her hands and leans back, Martha squirming in her lap. "I don't need you to decide for me. I need to know what you want."</p><p>"I want you to be happy, even if that means leaving."</p><p>I won't be happy without you, Mac resists the urge to say. "I know. It would take some getting used to, some adjusting..."</p><p>"I'll support you no matter what you do, Mac."</p><p>"Thanks." Her voice seems cold and short this time."I leave tomorrow."</p><p>Veronica almost chokes. "I thought you said-"</p><p>"I lied. In case you needed me to stay, I didn't want you to feel pressured. Also... I already gave up my apartment key..."</p><p>"Stay here," Veronica says quickly. "We don't mind. So... are you going?"</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>***<br/>Heather has her mind made up. Veronica doesn't need her and why would she? She has a plan for her future, Heather isn't in that. Maybe a fresh start in a new place is what she needs to get over her. She sets an alarm without telling Veronica before sliding into bed next to her.</p><p>That night, she doesn't sleep.</p><p>When Veronica awakens due to Martha's crying, she finds a letter on her bedside table.</p><p>Dear Veronica,</p><p>This was kind of last minute, that's why it's rushed and sloppy. It's the message that counts, right?</p><p>Why are the stories never told that aren't the typical ones? Usually, there's school, college or work, marriage, kids, and so on. But they never tell the stories of girls who fall in love in high school and end up in car chases and scandal and then go on with lives that aren't usual. I don't want a life like that, where I follow the system, grow up, and die. You gave me the courage to figure that out.</p><p>You taught me that freedom isn't free. You can't have everything. And I'd rather go our separate ways than drag you down for my own... I don't know what to call it. I hope things continue to go well for you. I'm not leaving to forget, but to be able to remember and know that there's a reason. If that makes sense. I'll remember you, and I hope that there will be a time when I can remember you without it hurting. There was a time when you couldn't talk about the deaths without crying or staying in bed for the rest of the day. Now you have pictures of them on your desk. I know it still hurts, and it probably always will, but this is the hardest part. At least for me.</p><p>You're probably wondering why I left so early when my flight isn't till six. It's because I need time, I need to ease into the change. If I don't let you go now, I never will.</p><p>I'll hate myself for writing this, but I love you.</p><p>- Mac</p><p>Veronica wipes her eyes and tosses the letter down. Then she slips on her shoes and grabs keys out of the bowl on the table. "Mom, I need you to keep an eye on Martha!" She calls to her mother, who didn't get home until midnight and doesn't appreciate the task.</p><p>"Where are you going?" She calls back in a groggy voice.</p><p>"Out." Veronica sighs, running out to the car. She'll hate herself if she doesn't do this, she knows that under the layer of impulsiveness.</p><p>She thinks over the letter, chest aching as she drives. Why would she think that she doesn't need her? Why would she doubt everything? She doesn't want to be a memory to Heather, one she winces at or sobs about in the middle of the night that heals with time until she can talk about Veronica like she's nothing. She was the one who called her when she couldn't sleep, she was the one who listened to Veronica's rants and speeches and let her cry on her shoulder during the funerals.</p><p>She refuses to let Heather become a picture on her desk. She refuses to let her become one more thing she lost.</p><p>Sprinkles of rain hit the windshield as she pulls up to an airport, sighing again. This girl will be the death of me. It's only when the rain hits her directly that she remembers that she's in nothing but a T-shirt and leggings she fell asleep in. That causes another sigh as she runs into the airport.</p><p>When she finally tracks down the flight she most likely is waiting for, it doesn't take long to find the blonde girl with messy hair and red-rimmed eyes.</p><p>"Veronica?" Her face twists in confusion.</p><p>"Yeah, it's me, who came in the freezing cold and now rain, so get in the car."</p><p>Heather blinks, observing her. "What?"</p><p>"Really, Heather, what am I going to have to do, steal someone's guitar and sing a love song?" She steps closer. "That letter is filled with crap and you know it. I know that you think leaving will complete me and give me the perfect life. But it won't."</p><p>She puts a hand on her arm, watching her start to cry and keep her eyes on the floor. "You're not happy, and I won't be happy. So don't do this. I was scared, Okay? I was scared that I would screw things up, or that you would use me like he did. But leaving completely..."</p><p>"I thought you didn't want this," Heather says quietly.</p><p>"I love you, Mac. And I want a life with you." She didn't know the words were true until they were out. Her heart pounds against her chest, hands shaking. All of the philosophical crap that comes with being in love hits her like a truck. "I didn't, I wasn't ready-"</p><p>"What changed?"</p><p>"Realizing what it would be like to lose you. And I told you, I was scared." The words leave her breathless.</p><p>Heather looks at her for a long minute, their eyes glued to each others. Veronica's hand slides down to her waist as they move closer. Desire and longing pulse under her skin. Their lips connect despite the fear, knowing that there's no going back.</p><p>For once, they don't want to go back. Because for once, the kiss isn't laced with devastation.</p><p>It's filled with hope.</p><p>END</p>
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